


more than a weekend lover

by HiddenEye



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 80’s Timeline, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Childhood Friends, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, M/M, Mutual Pining, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Werewolf Steve Rogers, very little you blink and it’s gone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:00:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24250987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiddenEye/pseuds/HiddenEye
Summary: Suddenly, the wolf snapped his eyes open and steadily readied them on Bucky, who inhaled sharply when bright blue eyes captured his.He was dead. He was so dead.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 47
Kudos: 219





	more than a weekend lover

**Author's Note:**

> My initial plan for only a 10k+ words worth of a fic clearly didn’t work when this monstrosity grew bigger. But I had fun writing this! I hope you enjoy reading this ❤️

There was a knock on his door.

“Jimmy? Sweetie?”

Bucky pushed one headphone away from his ear, lowering the volume of his Walkman at the same time. “Yeah?”

The door creaked open. She let her shoulder rest against his doorframe, one of her hands still holding onto the doorknob. Bucky blinked at the apron she was wearing. “I know it’s getting late, and you have homework,” she nodded at the spread of books on his desk. “But I need help in getting some things. I didn’t realise the heavy cream had expired and I need some to bake the cheesecake.”

Bucky perked up, turning around properly so that he was bodily facing Winnie with his arm hooked on the back of the chair. “You’re making cheesecake?”

“Yes, I’m making cheesecake and topping it off with berry coulis and fresh berries. But, this is for the high tea event I’m going to have with the girls tomorrow.” She smiled apologetically. “Sorry, honey. I know how you like cheesecake.”

Bucky deflated in his seat. He forgot about that. Winnie told them about the event she was going to have with the nurses at work. It was a little party to celebrate the plunge of patients getting this nasty flu and how the hospital was now free of them. It was a very hard 3 months for the staff, and the administration decided they all needed something to get excited over the moment everything was back to normal.

“Oh, don’t pout,” she said with a chuckle, causing Bucky to immediately suck in his lips. “I’ll make another one for the house. But I need you to buy four boxes of the normal brand of heavy cream I usually choose. You know which one those are, right?”

“Yeah, Ma, I know.” He pulled off his headphones and set them on the desk before standing to his feet, stretching his arms above his head to get rid of the kinks in his back after an hour of slouching over his homework. “Do you need anything else?”

“That’s it. But you can buy something for yourself and Becca,” she said, digging some cash from her apron pocket before offering it to him. Just as he was about to take it, she pulled it off his reach with an arch of her eyebrows. “Something appropriate for your age.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “That was one time, and it was an accident.”

“If you wanted to experiment with alcohol, you’d do it where I can see you,” she told him firmly. “And why beer? That’s basically a piss drink.”

Bucky groaned. “Ma, I really didn’t know it was Dad’s beer. I thought it was apple juice.”

“Bullshit, you know what apple juice looks like. And you wouldn’t even inhale the whole glass the moment you tasted it if you’d know it was apple juice.” 

That was true. What she didn’t know was how he took another bottle for himself. But then, Bucky threw up into the toilet bowl because it really did taste like piss and he couldn’t stomach _that_. He didn’t know why the other guys at school were all about it, as if beer happened to be man’s greatest creation. They were all drinking it like it was their lifeline or something.

She handed the cash over to him. “We wait until you’re eighteen to bring you alcohol experimenting, which isn’t very long from now, but I’d rather give you some of my nice cocktails than _that_.”

“ _Okay_ , Ma, I get it,” grumbled Bucky, grabbing for his sweater from the post of his bed before pulling it over his shirt. 

“Good. Take the scooter instead of your bike. At least, if any psychopaths decided to chase you down, you’d be able to run from ‘em without getting tired. My baby’s too pretty to die.”

“Aw, Ma, you think I’m pretty?” Bucky grinned at her as he walked out of his room, fluttering his lashes when he passed by her. 

“Pretty annoying most of the time,” Winnie remarked dryly, but one corner of her mouth was hooked into a smirk, and Bucky could see where he inherited his looks from. “Now _go_. I need to finish this by tonight so that I can put it in the fridge. It’ll have to be ready by tomorrow.”

“Can’t believe I’m the pretty child of this family,” Bucky exaggerated, doing a little dance while backwards just to let her see the way he let his hand sail over his hair. The curls only bounced back up. Winnie shook her head at him. “Hey, Becca,” he called out once he swung her door open. “I’m going out to buy Ma’s stuff. You want anything?”

Becca was on her bed with a thick hardcover novel Bucky was pretty sure that could kill someone with. Her glare slashed from the top of it; she looked as if she wanted to throw the book at _him_. “Ever heard of knocking?”

“Not in my vocabulary tonight, I’m in a hurry. Also, Ma says I’m the pretty kid.”

“I don’t pit my children against one another,” Winnie interrupted as she passed by the room. “Don’t make me a bad mum, Jimmy.”

Becca snorted, already turning another page of her book. “You heard that, rat’s nest? We’re all pretty in this household.”

“Hey,” he complained, running his fingers through his hair again. “We have the same curls. This is authentic Barnes hair you’re insulting.”

“Sure, but like, I keep my hair _clean_.”

“I _wash_ my hair, okay? I just don’t comb it much.”

“Whatever.” She didn’t even spare him a glance when she pulled up a hand to list off what she wanted with each finger. “One, a can of coke. Two, Reese’s cups. And three, you owe me a bag of chips.”

“Cool.” He backed away and started walking down the stairs. “I want some of your Reese’s!”

“No way! And close the door, you rat!”

Bucky plucked the keys to the scooter from the decorative bowl just as he landed on the ground floor. He used the connecting door to get to the garage, swinging it open and immediately stopping when he saw a pair of legs sticking out from their old Beetle. “Hey, Dad.”

There was a string of muted curses before his dad grunted out, “Jimmy? That you?”

“Yep.” Bucky walked around his dad’s legs before making his way to the scooter parked at the other side of the garage, making sure to not accidentally kick the tools spread on the floor.

“Where ya goin’?” George asked as he pushed himself out of the car, grabbing onto the old rag to wipe the grease off his hands. “I thought you had buncha homework.”

“Ma needed me to buy some baking stuff for her cheesecake,” Bucky replied, starting the engine. “I’m almost done with homework, anyway. Whatever’s left isn’t due for another two days.”

George hummed, throwing the rag over his shoulder before he perched his hands onto his hips. “Drive carefully. And wear a helmet.”

Bucky shook his head. “Nah, it’s not that far. I’m okay without it.”

“Well, I’m not. And I reckon your Ma wouldn’t be too,” George said, grabbing the helmet from his working table before he walked over. “You can use mine instead of your Ma’s.”

“Dad, I don’t need it.”

“Yes, you do,” George corrected, dropping the helmet onto Bucky’s head. “Better safe than sorry, kiddo. I know it’s not that far, but I’m paranoid and anything could happen along the way.” George crossed his arms when Bucky looked helplessly back at him. “So, wear it.”

Sighing, Bucky buckled the straps under his chin. “I look like a dork.”

“Better lookin’ like a dork than have your forehead smashed in.” George pointed out, and, yeah, that was true. Bucky didn’t want to _die_ , but sometimes things can get a lil’ redundant when he could’ve just zip out and back in the house without any problems. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy. No harm done.

Except sure, when it _could_ be fast and be done quickly, and everything _would_ be fine, but his dad had a point. Bucky would just make both him and Ma cry over his funeral because Bucky was a dumbass teenager who ignored road regulations and decided to go hippie with the scooter, leaving Becca as the only pretty Barnes child left and then she’d probably get to drive their Ford first.

Whatever. Whatever. It was done, he was wearing the damn thing on his head. “Can I go now?”

George grinned widely —because clearly, he liked boasting that he was right— and stepped back. “Be my guest.”

Bucky backed the scooter up as George opened the garage door. Bucky met his look. “I’ll be back in forty minutes.”

“Beyond that and I’m calling the cops.”

“You’re supposed to wait for 24 hours to report a missing person.”

George scoffed. “I’ll do what I damn well please.”

His family, really. “Sure thing, Dad. But if you’re charged for, say, abuse of rules or whatever when I come home okay, that’s on you.”

“They don’t fine you for that, Jimmy.”

“I’m just saying. Or you’ll get your ass kicked by cops and I’m pretty sure none of us want that.”

“Hah. As if. Those pigs can’t touch me.”

Honestly.

The chilly wind smacked his face as Bucky drove to the grocery store downtown. It was nice to get out at this time, and the full moon glowed brightly enough that it was visible on the road even if streetlights were glaring down on him. Houses whisked by as he made his way out of the area, their lights blinking at the corner of his eye, the occasional smell of food sometimes teased his nose before he found himself in front of the grocery store.

The bell tinkled above his head when he walked through the door. Clint raised his hand from where he was behind the counter, popping his gum with his teeth. “Hey, man.”

“Hey,” Bucky greeted, making a beeline towards where the dairy was. “Your shift tonight?”

“Yep. Gonna close up in half an hour, so your ass better be out by then.”

“I won’t be here for long, don’t worry.” Bucky pulled open the fridge and took out four small cartons of heavy cream, cradling them to his chest. He also grabbed a can of coke and after a second of contemplation, a bottle of root beer for himself.

“Oh, dude, you’re coming to practice tomorrow right?”

Bucky closed the fridge door with his foot and went to get Becca’s chocolate and chips. “Obviously. Coach Hill’s gonna kick my ass if I don’t.”

“True. Remember when you missed practice one day and had to run around the field for ten times?”

“It was raining, I got drenched, and then I got sick the next morning. Yeah, I remember.”

“Your mum wanted to sue the school.”

“Everyone wants to sue the school for something. Remember when someone got their teeth chipped ‘cause they tripped on some loose stairs?”

Bucky could hear the way Clint hummed in agreement. “Fair point.”

Bucky dumped everything on the counter. Clint started ringing them up. “You finished the poem for English class?”

“Almost,” Bucky replied, pulling out the money his Ma gave him from his jeans. “Never knew thinking of ways to make things rhyme would fuck me over so much, but English is just bullshit in general.”

“Yeah, I mean, can you believe ‘ch’ is the same as ‘ch’? Because the second one sounds like a ‘k’ and what the hell’s with that? Chair and monarch, for one fine example. Or, or, chloroform and champagne.”

“One’s a bland bastard and the other is its boring cousin.”

“We’re the carriers of this language but we suck at it, dude.”

“Speak for yourself.” Bucky passed the money to Clint once he bagged everything in the paperbag. “See ya tomorrow, Clint.”

“See ya, Bucky.”

Bucky walked out and made sure the paperbag was properly settled in the storage holder of the scooter. He swung his leg over and straddled it, engine puttering to a start under his hand when he twisted the keys.

He was about to wear the helmet when he heard a loud _thud_ from the side of the building of the grocery store, causing him to freeze. He stared at the dark place, its shadows stretching out, the sound of crickets flooding in the space around him when nothing happened for a few seconds. Then, a pained whimper floated to where Bucky stood.

“Sounds like someone’s hurt,” he mused, but his heart picked up at the notion that he wasn’t actually alone, and someone heard him buying his stuff. He licked his lips. “Or some _thing_.”

He turned off his engine and started looking around for something he could beat a potential threat with. A branch, or someone’s new broom they accidentally dropped behind. When he found nothing, he stared at the keys in his hands. Making up his mind, he arranged them so that it jutted out between his fingers, allowing him a tiny weapon he could stab someone with if the need arose. Better than nothing, he thought.

Another painful sound pierced through the night, causing goosebumps to erupt when it sounded distinctly like a cry.

“Please don’t be a psychopath,” Bucky muttered under his breath as he inched his way closer. “Please don’t be something big where I can’t punch it.” He paused, scrunching up his face. “Please don’t be a bear.”

When he was near enough, Bucky took a quiet breath to collect himself, praying it wasn’t anything that could kill him and leave his body to rot beside a grocery store, and peeked around the corner to have a look.

What he saw almost made him topple backwards, because lying down beside the dumpster with its head on its paws and its eyes closed, was the biggest wolf Bucky had ever laid eyes on. Not to say he ever countered wolves in his daily life, but the thing looked _huge_. He thought if the wolf stood up, it would reach the same size as that dumpster itself.

The wolf had a blond coat, from what Bucky was able to squint through what little light the entrance of the grocery store was able to offer. But its fur looked dirty, as if it had been rolling around in some mud before it decided to crash beside the dumpster. The wolf was curled up on the dirty ground with its tail wrapped around itself, but one of its front legs looked like it was twisted in a weird angle, from how it was jutted out like that, but it could just also be the shadows.

Suddenly, the wolf snapped his eyes open and steadily readied them on Bucky, who inhaled sharply when bright blue eyes captured his.

He was dead. He was so dead.

Despite the broken looking leg, the wolf was still big and the space between them wasn’t that far; there was a chance its hind legs were still working. There was also a chance it would pounce on Bucky and make him fresh meat by eating him for supper.

But, the wolf simply regarded him for a moment, never leaving its eyes from him, before it let out another pitiful whine that had Bucky instinctively tightened his grip onto his keys.

“Um,” he started, unsure what to do when the wolf looked like it was waiting for a response. “Hi?”

The wolf said nothing. It bowed his head to lick at its broken leg, and, well, Bucky didn’t know if he was going nuts or it was because the adrenaline of fear hadn’t actually gone away just yet, but he thought the wolf was asking for help.

Which meant that the wolf probably didn’t have any interest in eating him, which was also good, _great_ even. 

“You, uh, you want me to come nearer?” He asked tentatively.

The wolf let out a small _boof_ that shouldn’t sound as cute as it was when it came from a freakishly large animal, but Bucky found himself slowly putting one foot in front of the other as he slipped his keys into his pocket, trying to appear as non threatening as possible when he held up his hands. “I’m walking towards you now.”

The wolf only watched him until he crouched in front of it, and Bucky swore he saw amusement glinting in those eyes before the wolf blinked it away, licking at its front leg again.

Alright. Bucky had already made himself be near the wolf without getting eaten and that was a pretty damn achievement. He was in the dark at what to do here, though, because while it was nice that the wolf seemed to trust him immediately, Bucky wasn’t a wild animal specialist. He couldn’t tend to the wolf and give him some medicine even if he tried, since he knew nothing about taking care of wild animals.

“Look, uh, buddy,” he began, and yeah, let’s test his sanity further by talking to the wolf. He hoped no one would suddenly materialise behind him. “I don’t know if I can help you with this. Your leg is broken, and I’m not a vet.”

The wolf didn’t even look up this time when he spoke, only carefully tending to his injuries as one ear flicked in acknowledgment.

“Maybe I should call someone to help you—“

Instantly, the wolf snapped its head up and let out a low growl. Bucky jumped back immediately and put some space between them, his heart in his throat.

The wolf seemed to realise the sudden reaction frightened him and let its head rest on the ground again, looking up at Bucky at what could only be explained as puppy eyes as it whined apologetically.

Bucky took a deep breath, rubbing the side of his face with his hand when he felt like he was going to topple soon. Dear God, help him. “Alright. Okay. So, you don’t like that.”

The wolf whined again.

“You don’t want anyone else helping you,” Bucky began. “But, you just let me near you and have a look at you, which is weird, but I’m not gonna say anything about that now.” He gnawed on his bottom lip, letting his gaze run over the wolf fleetingly. “You’re still hurt, though, and I can’t just leave you here.”

He tried going near the wolf again, slowly shuffling forward as Bucky checked for its reaction. When the wolf stayed where he was, Bucky lowered himself into a crouch again, still relatively close. The wolf looked up at him, eyes pitifully big as it tried to make itself as small as possible. That tugged on his heartstrings, allowing Bucky to shake off the leftover fear as he properly looked at the wolf this time. “You’re really hurt, huh?”

There was a whimper of agreement. What he did next would probably have his family screaming at him for being a reckless idiot again, but Bucky looked into the wolf’s eyes and asked, “Is it okay if I touch you?”

The wolf blinked at him, before letting out a soft _boof_ as it lifted its head. Pursing his lips, Bucky reached out and let his fingers comb through surprisingly soft fur, its thick density burying them completely as he patted the wolf’s neck. The wolf closed its eyes in bliss, the tip of his tongue hanging out a bit and yeah, _definitely_ cute.

Bucky looked down at the broken leg again, frowning. “How ‘bout this,” he started, and the wolf popped his eyes back open. “I go back into the store and buy some bandages for you. Then, I wrap that leg of yours for now. How’s that sound?”

The wolf gave a bark, the tip of its tail wagging. Bucky smiled, scratching under its chin. “I’ll be right back.”

He stood up and power-walked back to the entrance, bursting through the door that Clint almost dropped the mop he was holding. “What the hell— _Bucky?_ ”

“Sorry, I’ll be quick,” Bucky rushed out, stalking towards where they kept the emergency kits and other first aid equipment. He grabbed a few rolls of bandages before turning around and making his way to the counter.

He screeched into a stop when he was near the grill. After staring at it for a second, he took three sausages and stuffed it in a hotdog box. Then, he turned back to the counter. “C’mon, I need to pay.”

“Why are you back?” Clint asked suspiciously, going behind the counter as Bucky dug for his leftover money. “Did you even leave?”

“How much is everything? Eight bucks?”

“Ten. Answer the question.”

“Can’t. Gotta go. See ya, sorry.”

“Yeah, you better!” Clint yelled at his back. “I just mopped up the place!”

Gravel scraped under his sneakers as Bucky went back to the side of the building, where the wolf remained where he was as he continued licking on his leg. Bucky slowed down to not startle it, and the wolf seemed to smell what he bought when it snapped its head up, tail thumping against the floor.

“Hey, buddy. I bought you something.” Bucky crouched beside it again, pulling out one sausage from the box. The wolf’s tongue rolled out as it panted in excitement. “Here ya go.”

Bucky set it in front of the wolf, who immediately gobbled the sausage up. Bucky took that moment to look at the leg. “Let’s see what we have here.”

His Ma was a nurse, so she had drilled the proper ways of using a first aid kit since he was eight because he had a tendency to fall face first into accidents. He knew how to disinfect a wound, how to properly wrap gauze rolls so that it didn’t unfurl back up. He knew how to pop back on a dislocated shoulder. It was all the simple ones, but he wasn’t taught to handle a wolf’s leg. When he gently felt the leg, it wasn’t like he assumed which —to his relief— it wasn’t shattered at the radius nor the ulna. He figured it was just sprained.

A large wet nose suddenly shoved itself into his neck, and Bucky let out a chuckle as he rubbed its forehead. “Okay, okay. You can have another one.”

Once the wolf was occupied with the second sausage, Bucky finished off his work by tying the bandage firmly into place. He leaned back a bit to admire his work. Not bad. His Ma would be proud.

Bucky realised the wolf was sneakily trying to pull the last sausage from the box. He snorted when the wolf tried to nose the cover away but it kept falling down, until the wolf used its paw to tip it over and let the sausage roll nearer to its chest, inhaling it whole.

“You’re welcome,” Bucky concurred, throwing the empty box into the dumpster. The wolf licked its lips and gave him a grin. Bucky snickered, climbing to his feet with the rest of the bandages. “I gotta go now, buddy. Don’t move that leg too much, gotta let it heal first.”

On queue, the wolf gave out a bark. Bucky shook his head in quiet disbelief. “Like you’d understand me anyway.”

He went back to his scooter, looking back once to see the wolf staring after him with its head tilted to the side and, oh no, that was too adorable. Bucky gave it a wave, and forced himself to walk forward before he did anything else.

* * *

Bucky woke up an hour he was supposed to because something rough and wet was licking his face.

What the _hell_.

Bucky almost screamed out when it migrated to his temple, the broad tongue covering his eye. He blindly put his hands on what he felt was a face and pushed whatever _fuck_ this was away from him.

There was a bark, and Bucky snapped his eyes open to see the wolf he saved hours ago occupying almost all of his bed, because it was a beast of an animal and Bucky only owned a super single mattress. He blinked rapidly, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles as the wolf expectantly waited for him with its tongue hanging out, tail thumping rapidly against his blankets. “Okay,” Bucky rasped out. “ _How_ did you get in here?”

The wolf barked again that Bucky quickly shushed it as he glanced at his door. “You’d wake everyone up,” he hissed at the giant puppy. “I still don’t understand _how_ you come up to my room, which is on a higher level, when the whole house is _locked_.”

Something clicked inside his brain and his eyes snapped down to the wolf’s wrapped leg. It was the same bandage he bought for it at the store. “And you’re supposed to be hurt,” he said, reaching out to let his fingers move fleetingly around it. But, the wolf looked like it was never hurt in the first place, sitting on Bucky’s legs with its massive paws on his stomach. Bucky looked up at it. “Did you just heal overnight?”

The wolf barked again that Bucky had to shoot up in bed and clamp its mouth closed. Bucky listened for footsteps, and when there was none, he released a relieved breath before glaring at this ridiculous animal. “Seriously. How did you get up here?”

The wolf jumped off the bed and went to his window, where it was wide open, allowing Bucky to see the cursed tree that always blocked his view of the world and make his bedroom a bit darker than usual. His window lost its ability to lock for almost a year; he was going to get that fixed for a while but hadn’t had the motivation to do it.

The consequences were finally biting him in the ass, to say the least.

He gaped at where the wolf sat dutily near it. “Did you just climb up here?”

The wolf gave a _boof_ , and Bucky flopped back into his mattress with a groan. “I need to get that fixed,” he mumbled, rubbing the side of his face. “Seriously, you came to my house, climbed into my room, and—“

Wait a minute.

How did the wolf know where he lived?

He shot up with a yell bubbling in his throat, but found out that the wolf was gone, the window still wide open.

* * *

“I still think it could’ve been handled better.”

“How’d you know?” Sam scowled. “Look, when you have two sisters and both of them are older than you, and they have _babies,_ you will hide your stuff.”

“Yeah, but in a _chest?_ With a _padlock?_ ” Bucky honestly thought the sun was a coward for hiding behind a bunch of clouds. He grimaced at the light grey sky, feeling the way exertion was creeping up on them after running thirteen rounds around the field. It had been raining for the past few days, causing the weather to be chilly than normal as puffs of clouds clumped together in the sky, the damp grass squelching underneath their sneakers. His mind went briefly to the wolf, worrying a little about its condition since it was two days since he last saw it. 

“Hey, you don’t get to talk shit when you don’t have a four-year-old niece and a two-year-old nephew wrecking your stuff,” Sam huffed out, wiping his sweaty nose indignantly as they made another round. “They climbed my bookshelf, dude. My comics were their chew toy. I had to tape them back together to make them readable again.”

Bucky aimed his grimace at Sam. “Is it the Captain America ones?”

“Oh, if they touched that, I’d disown them,” Sam claimed, shaking his head. “Nah, it’s X-Men. I had to tape back Nearly Headless Wolverine. And I _just_ bought those with my last check.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah, _ouch_.” Then, Sam looked forward and grinned. “Oh hey, it’s Steve.”

Bucky followed the direction he jerked his head at, and saw Steve standing in front of Coach Hill with his hand rubbing his nape. Even if he was a foot taller and maybe twice her size in mass, he still looked like he wanted to run off rather than face the irritated look she was giving him, clipboard balanced on her hip as she no doubt gave him shit for coming to practice late.

Bucky tried to stop staring, he really did, but the dude was wearing his school shorts that hugged his ass and his teeny tiny t-shirt looked like it was going to burst. It was ridiculous honestly, because when Steve Rogers was still a skinny lil’ kid with a big mouth, he wore clothes that looked like they could swallow him up. Ever since he shot up and buffed up at fifteen, it looked like everything was two sizes too small on his person.

It was as if Steve was making up all the times he couldn’t have properly fitted clothes and decided hey, he was hotter than usual, might as well take advantage of that and wear these seemingly innocent clothes everyone else was wearing. But, with a personal Steve-touch.

Not that Bucky was ogling him since he had to blink up at the boy he knew since elementary school. He saved Steve from having his teeth punched in throughout their school years, and the kid was like a firecracker ready to burst every time he decided he was going to fight something for honour or whatever. Back then, Bucky looked at Steve and knew he was pretty with his long lashes and a jaw that could cut people in half. But then they all grew up, _Steve_ did, and Bucky wasn't able to stop looking.

Which is absurd because they were best friends and they were _neighbours_ , for god’s sake, so there would be times when Bucky would bump into the Rogers’ whenever he was walking up his front door. They only live across the road, so sometimes he and Steve ride together to school on their bicycles. Sometimes, like today, when Bucky waited outside his house for ten minutes and Steve didn’t come out, he rode alone.

Bucky couldn’t bear to tell Steve that he maybe, just maybe, had a little crush on him since he was twelve. Sure, they hit it off six years before that when Steve first moved into town, hitting it right off the bat with Bucky at the age of six —George Barnes was still baffled at how wet balls of toilet paper could stick on the bathroom ceiling when both boys hid in Bucky’s room— but Bucky wasn’t going to tell Steve he wanted to have excuses in touching him more.

That was where Bucky drew the line. Best friend or not, he wasn’t going to say. He wouldn't know what he’d do if Steve left him.

“He’s late again,” Bucky commented idly, watching how Coach Hill finally let Steve go with a wave of her clipboard. Bucky subconsciously readjusted his sweatband as Steve jogged at their way. “You’re late again,” Bucky repeated, louder this time.

Steve looked sheepish as he got into step with them. ”Something happened.”

“Something always happens,” Sam snickered. “What is it this time? The alarm clock didn’t go off? You burned your toast? Your underwear didn’t get into the dryer?”

“Shut up,” Steve laughed, elbowing Sam in the arm. “I _overslept_.”

“Could’ve just said that.” Bucky pointed out, breathing heavily now as his lungs burned under his sweatshirt. 

“I wanted to sound cool, but Sam ruined it.” Steve playfully puffed out his chest, and honestly, it was unfair how sunshine and sunflowers this dude looked while Bucky was sweating buckets down his back. “Anyway, I got this old board game my Ma’s friend gave me, said she doesn’t play it anymore ‘cause it belonged to her cheating husband. You guys wanna come and have a look at it later?”

“What’s it called?”

“RISK. I never played it before, but I heard it’s totally cool.”

“Rogers!” Coach Hill shouted from across the field. “Pick up the speed so we can get on with practice. The others can start the stamina work-out programme.”

“Love how this is going to last longer than usual,” Sam stated sardonically, aiming a look at Steve. “Really. Thanks for that.”

“No problem,” Steve replied innocently, fluttering his lashes.

“Okay, Bambi Eyes. Get away from me and start running.” Sam pushed at him, laughing.

“I gotta go,” Steve said, giving them a small salute before pumping his legs faster, leaving them both behind.

Bucky stared after him in disgust and amazement. “The dude’s a freak. I’m best friends with a freak who can run like he’s on steroids for horses.”

“He’s already doing another lap,” Sam shook his head, both of them slowing down to where the rest of the students were gathering in the middle of the field. They tried to catch their breath, leaning on their knees. “I’m gonna throw up.”

“Because of Steve?”

“That and how I just ran too much,” Sam wheezed out, straightening up again as he pressed his palms into his back. “Oh hell, I need to lie down.”

“Do that and you’d actually throw up.” Bucky grunted out, pushing back strays of hair with his sweatband. He clutched his hips as he watched Steve run like he was being chased by the same psychopath his Ma warned him about. “This is why I should’ve chosen basketball. This sucks. Football sucks.”

“I’m sure it is, Mr. Barnes.”

Bucky froze, before plastering his most charming smile as he turned around to face Coach Hill. “Lovely morning, isn’t it, Coach?”

She didn’t look impressed. “Join Rogers for another five laps or you’ll be benched for the friendly match next week.”

He felt his smile crack a bit. “But, Coach—“

“Move your ass now, Barnes.”

He swallowed a groan, holding Sam’s eye the last minute —who only offered a wince— before Bucky went to catch up with Steve.

It was good that Bucky was as fast as him and was able to keep up to his pace. Steve noticed him and got confused, and when he tried to slow down, Bucky shook his head, explaining through gritted teeth, “We’ll finish faster.”

“What happened?”

“I said football sucks without knowing Coach was behind me.”

“Aw, Buck. Was she mad?”

“I’m here right now, what do you think?” Bucky got out in between laboured breaths, resulting in Steve chuckling. “God, I hate running so much. I don’t know how you do this almost every morning.”

“Perseverance and dedication,” Steve replied seriously, but he was smiling. “I’m just used to waking up early. And I need a run or I’ll feel restless.”

Bucky made a face, slowing into a jog that Steve followed suit. “You’re so weird. I can’t believe you’re willingly hurting yourself.”

“Bucky, it’s not weird just because I wake up at five for a run.”

“Jesus Christ, you’re not only weird, you’re also a masochist.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “You’re so dramatic.”

“At least I don’t wake up at ass o’clock in the morning just to be a lil’ sweaty.”

“Oh c’mon, you love my sweat.” Bucky yelped when Steve pushed his beefy, sweaty arms into Bucky’s neck. 

“You’re _disgusting_ ,” Bucky chortled, pushing back at him that Steve almost lost balance before he quickly righted himself up with a laugh of his own. “Now I got _your_ sweat on top of _mine_ , and it’s double sweaty for me, and it’s gross.”

“Think of it as a moisturiser and you’ll be fine,” Steve told him, his very attractive grin still tacked on his very handsome face. “Your free Steve Fluids are ready to go.”

Bucky honestly loved this disgusting barbarian. “ _Shut up_.”

It was the end of the school day and students poured out of the building in waves. Bucky, Steve, and Sam were unlocking their bicycles when Bucky said, “You guys go on without me. I gotta go somewhere first.”

“You sure?” Steve asked, all concerned. “You don’t want us to follow you or anything?”

“Nah, I’m gonna make it quick,” Bucky told them, straddling his bike. “I’ll see you two at your house, Steve.”

“Where are you even going?” Sam called to his back as Bucky cycled away.

“Grocery store!” He shouted back. “To, uh, buy some stuff!”

“Buy us some food! And coke! And a slurpee!”

“No way! That’s already at 7-Eleven!”

“Sam,” Bucky could hear how affronted Steve sounded despite how far he was from them. “I have food and coke.”

“Yeah, but do you have a slurpee?”

“Um, no?”

Bucky snorted before he pushed on the pedals to speed up.

When he saw the grocery store in view, he slowed down, avoiding parked cars before he swerved to the side of the building where the dumpster would be before screeching into a halt.

To his disappointment, the wolf wasn’t there. The same garbage stink reached to where Bucky was perched at the entrance, but other than that it was as empty as it should be until the wolf came two days ago.

Bucky was hoping the wolf was there so that he could take a look at the bandage. He even had a clean one in his backpack. While he was pretty sure it was a dream, he thought the leg the wolf had been worrying on earlier that night wasn’t giving it any problems anymore — as if it was _healed_. But then, the way the wolf had licked him awake was _too_ real, and he _may_ not have been hallucinating at all when he found his window still wide open the next morning.

But, still. He hoped the wolf was okay.

Sighing softly, he parked his bike and went inside the store to grab bags of chips and coke for him and his friends.

* * *

It was common knowledge that Bucky and Steve sometimes went to each other’s houses and just hung out — they were either lazing around in their rooms with books and sketchbooks and charcoal strewn all over their mattresses or they were finishing off their homework together. Sometimes Sam came along, and he’d bring his water guns in some of those visits when it got a little too warm for their taste.

Sam even brought it when it was balls cold but that didn’t matter.

Steve once climbed on the big tree to knock on Bucky’s window when they were fourteen, scaring the hell out of him, a wide-eyed look on his face as Steve frantically waved for him. Bucky had pushed himself off his bed and yanked the window open, huffing. “Stevie, what the hell?”

“Buck,” Steve urged from his perch on the thick branch, and Bucky realised that his hair was drenched, and his shirt too, sticking onto Steve like second skin, accenting how he had begun to fill out around his shoulders earlier that year. He wiped droplets of water from his lashes. “You gotta help me, or Ma’s gonna kill me when she gets home.”

Bucky squinted at the state his friend was in. “Why are you so wet?”

“I broke the showerhead,” Steve winced, pushing his hair back that it got stuck that way when he let go. “Please, Buck, you gotta help me or I’m toast.”

“What did you even _do?_ ” 

Steve stilled for a moment, before he shuffled in place, eyes snapping everywhere before they landed over his shoulder. “Uh, I was trying to fix it? Water wasn’t coming out,” he added defensively when Bucky arched his eyebrows. “So I was tryna loosen the head and see if it was clogged or something, but then this gush of water came out and, well,”

It wasn’t even a spray. Steve looked like someone came up behind him and dumped a whole bucket of water right over his head. It had to be _bad_.

“Alright, let’s go,” Bucky sighed, causing Steve to perk up as he started to wiggle down the branch. “Why couldn’t you just put the shower head back on? It’s not like you broke it or anything.”

Steve looked sheepish then, and Bucky paused before he pulled out his other leg from his bedroom, leaving him suspended midair with half of his body hanging out of his room. He gave Steve an exasperated look. “Don’t tell me.”

“It was an accident,” Steve muttered out, scaling down the bark.

Bucky followed suit. “Again, I’m gonna ask, what the _hell_ did you do?”

“I told you!” Steve exclaimed as they ran across the street. “It was an accident. I’m not gonna say anything else ‘bout it.”

“One day, you’re gonna break your nose again and then you’d say that was another one of those accidents.”

When they burst through the front door, Bucky could hear water running. They thundered up the stairs and almost slipped on the floor when it splashed under their feet, flooding the upper floor. They shot each other a wild look before scampering into the bathroom, where the bathtub was overflowing with more water as the shower pipe continued gushing it out.

They tried to fix it, Bucky soaked as Steve was from where he stood under the running water to shove the shower head back into its place. It wasn’t until he yelled at Steve to turn off the main water supply that the water trickled into a stop, leaving Bucky to sit on the edge of the bathtub with his soaked sneakers, the broken shower head in hand.

He looked back up when Steve walked in, who joined him on the bathtub as he faced the other way, but he still met Bucky’s eye. “Sorry for the mess,” Steve apologised softly. “And for making you all wet.”

Bucky felt something skip in his chest at how stupidly earnest Steve looked even when his hair flopped on his skull. Bucky cleared his throat. “S’kay. At least, the water stopped now.” He tossed the shower head in his hand. “Your Ma’s gonna kill you, though.”

Steve sighed, leaning against his shoulder as he looked around the bathroom miserably. “Yeah.”

So, almost four years later, right then, when Bucky knocked on the Rogers’ front door and Sarah Rogers answered it instead of Steve and told Bucky that he was sick, Bucky got kind of disappointed but quickly buried it before she could catch a whiff. Instead, he frowned. “Is it the flu again?”

“And a migraine,” she agreed, nodding. She offered him a small smile, and there was something on her face that he wasn’t able to pinpoint, almost as if she was guilty of why he couldn’t come inside, but that was a little ridiculous since Steve always had his spells of illness. This was just one of them. “I know you wanna see him, honey, but I don’t want his germs on you that you’d get sick too.”

Bucky shrugged. He’d been over 100 degrees for two days when they were sick at ten years old, but it wasn’t like they could do anything about it then. “Well, s’not like it hadn’t happened before.”

Sarah smirked. “Yes, well, the point is I don’t want it to happen again.” She ruffled his hair, even if he was taller than her now. She always did it when he was younger. “You can see him in another three days, Bucky. I’ll tell him you came along, and maybe he wouldn’t be so grumpy and bitch about it like some medieval Lady stuck in her mansion.”

Bucky laughed. “Sure thing, Mrs. Rogers. Tell him to get better soon.”

The same regretful look lingered at the edges before she swept it away, leaving a smile in its place. “I will.”

The next day, the sound of scratching pencils filled in the quiet classroom as they all took their quiz, and Bucky couldn’t stop his eyes from flickering towards the empty seat beside him.

It was usually like this; Steve would get sick for days at a time, leaving Bucky worrying over him in school that sometimes his mind wondered if Steve was getting better. Sometimes, he’d visit Steve when he could, but always, Sarah would gently prevent Bucky from being in the same room as Steve. Bucky would only get to the living room to drop off some homework before he left.

Now, his leg was jumping under his desk, his forefinger pressed hard into his cheek as he made himself focus on the paper in front of him.

After the bell rang, he and Sam rode together back home before Sam turned into his street with a wave goodbye. Bucky kept peddling on the side of the road as he tugged out his Walkman, his headphones hanging around his neck as he fiddled with the buttons, his head bowed.

He looked up, and almost crashed his own bike to a stop when he saw the wolf sitting in the middle of the street.

The wolf was watching a butterfly fluttering over its head, bushy tail loosely wrapped around its paws as the damn thing _sat_ there, not caring that there was a chance a car would speed over and hit it. It was only a relief that the street was empty in the middle of the day, when most people were at work or school.

The bandage Bucky helped wrap around its leg last month was gone. Someone must have taken it off when the wolf started walking properly.

The moment the wolf saw Bucky, it skipped to a stand, tongue rolling out while that tail swished excitedly in the air. The wolf even barked out in greeting, the troublemaker, making Bucky snap his gaping mouth closed.

“Where have _you_ been?” 

The wolf barked again, and a thrill of panic shot up his spine when the wolf turned around and started trotting away.

“Hey!” Bucky shoved his Walkman and headphones into his backpack before he started to go after the wolf. “Where’re you _going?”_

It wasn’t as if the wolf could reply; now that would’ve made Bucky turn tail and beat it, no matter how friendly the wolf appeared to him. His voice did make the wolf increase its pace though, and before Bucky knew it, he was paddling as hard as he could because the wolf was so goddamn _fast_.

They turned around a corner and went down the slope. Bucky found himself cycling into the main road, and it stretched far and long with old trees looming over their heads, asphalt and small littering branches crunching underneath his tyres. Unexpectedly, the wolf took a sharp left and into the forest that Bucky was scrambling to catch up, rolling down another grass slope that had the muted, shrill wind whistling past his ears.

The forest started to get denser as they ran in deeper, and Bucky realised the wolf was starting to slow down when more bushes crowded around him, before it ambled the rest of the way and led him to wherever it was it wanted to show him.

“Where are you even taking me?” Bucky asked cautiously, looking around. It was cooler in the forest, the chill greeting him like an old friend. But it wasn’t creepy like those movies; he’d seen way too many brainless protagonists being lured into those kind of forests by stupid decisions and some sort of magical force.

Bucky took in the way this wolf’s back muscles moved, how the paw prints on the mud was almost the size of his face. Yeah, he was probably the brainless protagonist this time, if the way he was following this huge wolf thoughtlessly was any indication. Who, also, could understand him for some eerie reason. And who, also, had let Bucky to a clearing that had the sun bursting from the skies, free from the canopy of trees.

It wasn’t that big, thirty feet in diameters, maybe. But the wolf didn’t seem to mind when its attention was pulled by a wood mouse skittering somewhere near the small pile of dead leaves, darting inside and out. The wolf let out a loud and excited bark that echoed around them, clearly thinking it was time to play. It was weird for wolves to have this kind of behaviour, but it _was_ of canine species or whatever, so dog behaviour was connected some way or another.

What made Bucky suck in a sharp breath was how the wolf —who was right in front of him— launched itself across the clearing with a huge leap before it crashed into the leaves, making everything fly up. The sun had caught onto the wolf’s coat, making it _gleam_ , for god’s sake, as if it was spun by gold itself.

But the jump made by the wolf looked impressively easy. If provoked, Bucky thought, the wolf would go further and its teeth would be seen. It was only sheer dumb luck or whatever equally similar reason that the wolf took interest on him and didn’t eat him.

Right then, the wolf was rolling around the leaves and making them stick onto itself, and the scene looked completely harmless that Bucky kept forgetting it was a giant wolf rather than a hyper puppy.

The wolf flopped itself on its back, legs in the air as it looked at Bucky upside down. It let out a yelp, as if encouraging him to come nearer. 

That would make a pretty picture. Only, Bucky didn’t have a camera with him then, and made a mental note to borrow Becca’s later.

“Hey, dummy,” Bucky called out, and the wolf barked back in response, causing him to smile. “Yeah, you. Is this your hiding spot?”

The wolf righted itself and shook the leaves from its head. It then stood up and trotted towards Bucky, and he realised the wolf stood to his chest. Still very big for dog standards, considering the Great Dane. The wolf licked his offered hand before Bucky scratched behind its ear.

“Geez, you’re like the size of a pony,” Bucky commented idly, unmounting his bike to instead sink to his knees and use both hands to scratch the wolf’s head. It seemed to like it when one of its hind legs lifted up halfway into a scratch, foot twitching midair. It made Bucky grin at its rolled out tongue and utterly blissed out look. “That’s a good boy, such a good boy.”

Bucky got knocked over with an _oof!_ when large paws pushed onto his shoulders and brought him to his back. A rough tongue then licked his face and Bucky laughed as he rubbed the wolf’s mane. “C’mere, c’mere. Gross as hell and I’m only allowing this _once_.”

That was a lie, maybe half-hearted at most, and the wolf seemed to sense it too when they spent the rest of the day playing chase in the forest and Bucky let the wolf jump on him the moment it caught on him. The wolf weighed a hundred pounds or more, and Bucky might have his breath knocked out of him as the wolf suffocated him with all its weight and fur, but it was totally worth it, if he said so himself.

Bucky spoiled him with the leftover peanut butter cracker sandwiches he had with him and Buddy —the name he chose for the wolf— had accepted it with a gracious _chomp_.

It was almost sad to hear Buddy whine out when Bucky said he had to go, and he himself felt the heavy pull of wanting to stay with Buddy when he gave him this pitiful eyes that begged him to not leave him alone. But it was getting late, and the orange sun was getting darker on the trees while shadows stretched longer from its barks.

“I promise I’ll see you tomorrow,” Bucky told him, earning him another pitiful whine. “I know, I know, but I gotta go, alright? I’ll come back for you, really.”

As Bucky cycled away, he looked back and saw Buddy looking back at him. When they met eyes, Buddy’s tail thumped against the ground, and Bucky waved him goodbye for the day.

The next morning happened to be the weekend, which was excellent. Bucky managed to convince Becca in letting him borrow her camera in exchange of being her designated driver to her swimming class before he left for college —“Becs, I literally drive you there every time.” “No, Dad drives me there most times while you do it sometimes. Now, it’s your full-time job.” “I’m not doing this without gettin’ paid.” “Shut up.”— and now, Bucky was on the way to the Rogers’ to pass Steve his homework from last week before Bucky would leave to see the wolf.

Sarah thanked him when he set it on the kitchen table before she noticed the camera hanging around his neck. “What’s that for?”

“Oh,” he let out, looking down. Was he going to say he was going to take pictures of a wolf doing silly things? Of course not. He wasn’t going to give her a heart attack. “Yeah, uh-huh, I thought of taking pictures of,” his mind raced for an object. “Nature.”

“Really?” She asked. He had a deep feeling she knew he was lying when he saw the twinkle in her eye. “I didn’t know you had a knack for nature.”

“Uh, just recently. Y’know,” he flapped his hand around lamely. “Sceneries and stuff. Some very pretty looking trees. Maybe some fighting frogs. The usual.”

“Sure thing,” Sarah replied, rummaging through her drawers. It was then Bucky looked around and blinked at the pans of what looked like banana cake and chocolate brownies. They crowded the whole counter while a couple of them were set on the table.

“Are you having people over?”

She glanced over her shoulder before continuing on her task. “More like I’m goin’ over to someone’s place. Ah-ha!” She pulled out a knife bread and worked through one of the pans of banana bread. “But I think I made too much. So, I’m giving your family one of these. And since you're in a hurry with nature,” she shot him a teasing look. “I’ll drop it off your house on my way out.”

Bucky felt his cheeks warmed up as he cleared his throat. “Cool. Thanks, Mrs. Rogers.” He backed up. “I’ll let myself out.”

“Wait a minute, I’m gonna give you a few slices to bring with you.” She slid five of them into a paper bag, before jutting out her hand to him. “Take this.”

Back at the forest, when he let his bike lean against one of the trees, Buddy was already circling around him and sniffling into the paper bag he was holding onto. Bucky laughed, lifting it out of reach as they waddled their way to the middle of the clearing. “Nu-uh. S’not just for you, we gotta share.”

To his surprise, Buddy lifted himself to stand on his hind legs and almost made Bucky fall when two heavy paws pressed onto his shoulders. Bucky had to take a few steps back to gain his balance when Buddy —who was now taller than him— easily reached forward and snatched the paper bag from his hand.

“Hey!” Bucky exclaimed when Buddy dropped down and brought his steals to the middle of the clearing. “We’re supposed to _share_.”

Buddy ignored him and nosed his way through the bag before gingerly picking out a slice of Sarah Roger’s banana bread and ate it whole.

Bucky rolled his eyes and made his way towards him. He lowered himself down, hands fiddling with the camera and griped, “Do what you want, you animal.”

He aimed the camera at Buddy, who had taken his words at heart and took two slices of bread at once, and Bucky pressed onto the button just as Buddy was about to chomp onto them halfway.

The flash made Buddy shoot his head up with a startled blink, allowing Bucky to grin as he took another at the wolf’s comical expression. “Just so that when I get old, I’d show this to everyone who won’t believe me when I said I ate banana bread with a wolf.” He snatched one for himself before Buddy inhaled it all.

They played together again; chasing around the forest until they discovered this hidden lake, completely unreachable unless you walked through these bushes and around this huge boulder covered moss. Buddy jumped into it and swam around while Bucky only rolled his pants up and dipped his feet, kicking water at the wolf when Buddy splashed him back.

It was almost noon when they were at the clearing again, sprawled lazily on the ground. Buddy was used as Bucky’s very fluffy, very alive pillow with his arms folded on his stomach, staring at the birds flying over them. Buddy had closed his eyes, breathing heavily that soft snores trailed out from him.

“Wish I had a camcorder for this,” Bucky yawned, feeling slowed down by their activities that a short nap might just do the trick. It was the weekend anyway, he’d go back to help with lunch after ten minutes. Without warning, he felt himself surrendering to the darkness.

And then, he was jerked awake.

It felt like Bucky closed his eyes for only a minute, but it didn’t feel like it. He shot up, thinking he slept himself to oblivion and only woke up then, but then the body behind him moved.

“Hey, Buddy, I gotta g— oh my _fuck_.”

Because where Buddy, the wolf Bucky saved beside the dumpster and later then ate most of his bread, used to be was no more. Instead, what laid in his place— or rather, _who_ laid in his place was none other than Steve Rogers, his best friend, his neighbour, the boy Bucky knew since they first pulled out each other’s baby teeth.

And he was naked as the day he was born.

Those stupidly long lashes fluttered and Steve was blinking away his sleep, as if he was Sleeping Beauty waking up from the damn curse but instead of a kiss, it was the incredulity that Bucky gave out in waves as he gaped down at him. Bucky thought he was going to go insane from where he was rooted to the spot, but he wasn’t about to give Steve the luxury of being a princess when Bucky just found out they woke up together in some secluded place of the forest and _Steve was naked._

This wasn’t his finest moments, and he’d probably remember this for the rest of his life, but there was no stopping the way Bucky shrieked out, “ _What the fuck, Steve?_ ”

Steve jumped into sitting up, hair wild as he looked around in panic before he finally saw Bucky. If Bucky hadn’t been so mindfucked by this, he would’ve laughed at how wide Steve’s eyes had gotten as his mouth formed a surprised circle of an _oh_. 

“Uh—“ was all he got out before Bucky stood up.

“ _Why_ are you naked?” He demanded. “Here? Now? When I was sleeping on Buddy—?”

Bucky whipped around, suddenly remembering that Buddy was still not there. “What— where is he? Where’s my wolf?”

He snapped his head forward when there was a crunch of leaves and saw Steve pushed himself to his feet. Bucky tried very, very hard to force his eyeballs to be trained on his face instead of making them go any lower, the traitors they were. “Your wolf?” Steve inquired slowly, but his eyes were bright, and _Jesus Christ_ , Steve.

“Yeah, my wolf,” Bucky snapped, glancing over Steve’s shoulder instead as he made himself look busy. “We were taking a nap, and suddenly I woke up and then _you’re_ here, _naked_ , while he’s gone and—“

“Bucky.”

“ _What?_ ”

“Where do you think the wolf went?” Steve asked curiously, calm mostly. Far too calm, in fact. And Steve Rogers wasn’t usually this calm unless he knew something that no one knew and was being a little smug about it too. In this case, he was _taunting_ Bucky and that made him fume.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe the goddamn moon.”

Steve snorted, downright amused, and clearly wanting to give Bucky a stroke when he walked past him, their shoulders brushing in the process. “I think they stopped sending dogs to space a long time ago.”

“Buddy was a wolf, not a dog,” Bucky grumbled, raking his fingers through his hair as he heard the way Steve moved behind him. “Just, what in fresh hell are you doing here, Steve?”

“Could ask you the same thing, Buck, but I think I already know the answer. While I’m just here too damn early.”

“The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Bucky almost jumped when his voice was suddenly near. When he swivelled his head to the side, Steve was already dressed in a shirt and a pair of jeans, and where in Satan’s ass did he get those? But he was still barefoot and had that same stupid look on his face. “I shifted too early.”

Bucky stared blankly at him. “What?”

“I’m in,” Steve waved a hand down his front. “ _this_ body now.”

Like _that_ soothed any worries in Bucky. “Again, what does that mean?”

Steve smiled. Bucky wanted to kick his nuts. “C’mon, Buck.”

Bucky frowned at him, before something so ridiculous, so unbelievable clicked in his head that he didn’t _want_ to believe it. But, somewhere in his gut was screaming at him to realise this situation he fell into and _get his head out of the fucking clouds because are you blind? Jackass, are you blind? Don’t you see?_ and no, he didn’t want to, fuck you.

But, it didn’t matter what he wanted because this mess unraveled in front of him in the form of this boy, this big dumb boy who had hair like the wolf’s mane as the afternoon sun shone on them both, and wasn’t that the most splendid thing to ever witness?

“Oh, fuck me.” Bucky breathed out.

Steve quirked up his eyebrows.

Dragging a hand down his cheek, Bucky sat heavily back on the ground with a long groan. “Steve,” his words were muffled by how he shoved his palms into his face. “Are you telling me you’re the damn wolf?”

“A werewolf, actually.”

Bucky jerked his head up, scowling at him. “Now you’re just messing with me. Fuck you, it’s not funny.”

“Buck,” Steve started and no, absolutely _not_ , Bucky wasn’t going to let him use that voice on him, the one that would turn anyone gooey because Steve was using his _I know this is bad, but we can fix this_ voice. “I won’t do that to you. Not about this.”

“Sure, sure,” Bucky said, not looking at him as he pushed himself off the ground again. “Look, Steve, I should go.”

Steve frowned, reaching for him. “Bucky—“

“Ma’s probably waiting for me to come home. It’s lunch time anyway, so you better go back too.” Bucky straddled his bike. “Don’t want anyone to worry.”

“Bucky, please—“

Bucky heaved his bicycle away from him. “See ya, Steve.”

“Bucky, wait!”

He ignored him, cycling as fast as he could to get out of the place, his mind a mess as he tried to churn what it was he found out. It was hard to believe. Really, really hard to believe whatever it was Steve was implying, was _saying_ to him when all this time they were best friends who told each other everything. They had, they _did_ , but this?

He didn’t know what to think.

* * *

The next few days had been a dance between them. It was a couple of hours later after he got back from the forest, Bucky was cleaning up the dishes when Winnie answered the ringing door. 

It was Steve.

Bucky cursed under his breath, thanking god at the same time that he was at his last plate and quickly placed it on the rack. He made sure none of them saw him when he sneaked out of the kitchen through the other doorway and climbed up the stairs, making sure to not make any noise when Winnie said, “He’s in the kitchen, Steve. Come on in.”

Bucky quickly slipped into the bathroom and closed the door, locking it in place before he let out a breath.

He couldn’t exactly tell Steve to screw off, can he? But if he didn’t do that, Steve would come to visit him whenever he wanted and talk about what happened at the forest, and Bucky didn’t want to see him at the moment. At least, not then, not when everything was too new and what information that was dumped on him was still tangled around his thoughts and his, to his unfortunate self, emotions.

Bucky pressed his ear against the door, trying to make out their voices through it.

“—not here,” his mother was saying, sounding confused. “He went upstairs already. Do you want me to call him down? Or you could always go up.”

Bucky started to panic. _No, no, no—_

“No, no, that’s okay, Mrs. B.” Steve was saying. “But, do you think you could tell him I came by?”

“Of course. You sure you don’t wanna go up?”

Bucky could almost see the smile everyone loved Steve shot her. “Positive. I’ll leave now, if it’s okay.”

Bucky could hear footsteps retreating to the front door, before it slammed close.

He counted to five and got out of the bathroom.

It went on to the next day until Bucky couldn’t exactly avoid him anymore. They still had school to go to, and with how Steve sat near him in the classes they shared, it was going to be hard to pretend he wasn’t there.

It was very, very hard to avoid those big blue eyes that seared through the back of his skull. Bucky shifted in his seat, trying to focus on the sharp tonation of Madame Hydra’s voice as she explained how German grammar worked on the black board. 

With his leg relentlessly bouncing under the table, Bucky caught the stony look Natasha shot him from his side, one eyebrow perfectly arched, before she tilted her head slightly at the general direction where Steve was. Bucky only shook his own, ducking down to write his notes.

The moment the bell rang, he zoomed out of the classroom and shook off the weight of Steve’s gaze on him by hefting his backpack near. Natasha caught up with him, easily padding with his brisk pace as she bit into her bubble gum. “Why’s Steve looking at you as if you kicked him?”

“Right. Right. It’s because he’s like a golden retriever, I get it.” It wasn’t funny — Steve wasn’t exactly a _dog,_ apparently. That phrase was now banned from Bucky’s vocabulary. “And I dunno what you’re talking about.”

“He was practically moping, James,” she said, matter-of-fact, as Bucky almost ripped off his locker door to shove his books in. Her eyes roamed over him fleetingly. “And it looked as if you’re not taking this lightly either. What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing.”

“Okay, how ‘bout this?” He slammed his locker closed and spinned on her. “None of your business.”

“True, but you’re miserable and he’s miserable. It’s just going to be our business, anyway.”

“Who’s _‘our’?_ ”

“Me and Sam.” She smiled sweetly when he scowled. “Don’t be a baby. You two are going to fix this or we’ll handle it. Kiss it better or kiss each other, but whatever, tomato tomato.”

“No, no,” Bucky laughed humourlessly. “Definitely not _tomato tomato_. There’ll be no kissing between anyone, and you and Sam need to screw off because there’s nothing to handle in the first place.”

She blew her gum until it was the size of a tennis ball, scrutinising him quietly. The patronising pop that came after was like the sound of a gun being shot in an empty room. “Uh-huh.”

Bucky let out a low groan. “Nat, c’mon.”

“ _I’m a friend looking out for my friends,_ ” Natasha replied in Russian. This was their weird little thing their other friends hated because of how only both of them understood it. But really, it was only because Bucky had private lessons with her aunt years ago. There were even jokes of them being spies to the Soviet; Bucky just hoped the government didn’t actually know about it or worse, took it too seriously. “ _You’re making this very hard, James._ ”

“ _Not as hard as you make it be, Natalia,_ ” he gruffed out, already walking past her.

“Talk to him,” she called out in English, and Bucky waved it off without looking back.

That night, Bucky was on his back under the belly of the Beetle, finishing the last of the repairs after George went through some of it. He heard the connecting door opening and closing, and grunted out just as a pair of shoes stood near his legs. 

He stuck his hand out blindly, wiggling his fingers. “Be a sweetheart and pass me the wrench.”

It was handed into his palm, making him gruff out a “Thanks” as he busied himself with this damn loose bolt that would look like it’ll rocket into his brain if he didn’t tighten it.

It must have been minutes before Bucky wiped his forehead with the back of his hand that spread grease all over his skin, studying his work. “Hey, I think it’s almost done.”

“That’s great, Buck.”

Oh, Jesus.

He jumped in surprise and whacked his head against metal, making him press into the bump with gritted teeth when his forehead throbbed painfully.

_Fucking son of a mother—_

“You okay?” Steve’s voice asked in worry, and Bucky peered down to see the familiar sneakers still there. Steve was squatting on his feet, probably trying to see if Bucky had an egg on his forehead after scaring the bejesus out of him.

Rebellion made him unresponsive, but he was going to look like a complete tool if he tried to ignore Steve by refusing to come out of the car. Bucky pursed his lips, sharply rolling himself out that Steve was startled at the sudden movement, but quickly collected himself. “Can we please talk?”

“Nothin’ to talk about.” Bucky claimed, seemingly blasé when his heart was thundering.

“Bucky, c’mon,” His voice was strained as Steve rocked himself backwards until he sat on the floor of the Barnes’ garage. “I don’t like fighting with you.”

“We’re not fighting,” Bucky muttered, rolling the wrench in his hand.

“That’s good then,” Steve sounded relieved at that, and Bucky felt his chest clenched with guilt. “Look, I know what happened in the forest was shit off the charts, but I don’t want that to get in between our situation. So, can we talk about it? Please?”

They fought before, but it was usually quickly resolved before it turned ugly. What happened in that forest wasn’t like anything bad happened; but it still shook Bucky at the notion that Steve was a different species altogether, that he wasn’t _human._ Sure, he was human _now_ , and Bucky knew this Steve, knew that earnest look and how he was still making himself smaller despite his size. 

But Bucky knew Buddy too, knew the wolf who ate too much banana bread and chased down wood mice because he could. Buddy had been too docile for a wolf, none of the scary shit Bucky would always hear from the media.

The fact they were both the same person, well.

It shouldn’t matter. It really shouldn’t matter because Steve was at his garage, his legs pressed against his chest with chin on his knees as he expectantly waited for Bucky’s answer, and there was some sort of fear in those eyes — as if he was afraid Bucky would push him away.

Of course not. Good god, of course not.

Bucky ached for him in more ways than one, and this distancing they were going through wasn’t fair to Steve when he just wanted Bucky to understand. Bucky was being a bit of a jerk, but he had the very right to be as confused and afraid as he was when he took a nap with Buddy, a large fluffy wolf, only to wake up to a very naked Steve in his place.

That memory flashed in his mind’s eye, and Bucky pushed himself up into sitting on the board to hide the pink in his cheeks. 

“Okay,” he mumbled out, making Steve perk up.

“Okay.” Steve echoed, nodding his head. He worked on his bottom lip. “What do you wanna know?”

Bucky didn’t know. What they were diving into sounding insane on its own. “Prove it to me.”

“What?”

“Prove it to me you’re a,” he found himself trying to taste the word. “Werewolf.”

“Oh,” Steve managed softly. But then, he rearranged his spine, legs dropping so that he could fold them properly instead. “Right. So, you know how I can’t really eat chocolate, right? Because I keep telling you I’m allergic to it?”

“You _are_ allergic to chocolate.” 

“Yeah, well, it’s mostly how chocolate can actually slowly kill me because I’m a werewolf and have like, dog DNA or something, so that’s why I don’t eat ‘em. At least, that’s what I’ve been told. Wasn’t going to actually risk it.”

“And here I thought you don’t eat ‘em ‘cause you were on a diet,” Bucky muttered, plucking the rag from the toolbox to wipe his hands. “What else?”

“And,” Steve added. “You know how I’m always sick every month?

“Yeah?”

“I wasn’t really sick. Every month, I’d have to make it like I’m sick ‘cause those are the times when I shift into the other body. Into a werewolf. But, transforming isn’t always fun,” Steve let out a small laugh. “I get through it, but, y’know,” he shrugged. “Not exactly the best experience every time.”

Bucky found himself looking at him properly. “Is that why your Ma won’t let me see you in your room?”

“Yeah, it’s because I’m not there.” Steve gave him a gentle smile. “I have to move around. I’ll get restless and break shit around the house if I don’t get out. S’why I’m always roaming in that forest. It’s private. People won’t suddenly grab a rifle and shoot me ‘cause they think they saw this gigantic wolf walkin’ around town.”

There had been rumours of a wolf walking around town before. Only, Bucky didn’t expect to meet the wolf, didn’t expect to befriend it, and certainly didn’t know that wolf to be his best friend, who was telling him how he was actually a werewolf instead. 

“Is your Ma a werewolf too?”

“Yeah, we’re a pack actually. A small one, but we have each other and that’s what matters.”

“How about your dad?”

“He was one too, but he wasn’t so lucky with the people.” Steve shrugged again, only this time, it looked far more sadder than before. “He got shot. It’s why we moved here in the first place. I was six and scared, kept asking when Dad was gonna come home from his run when he was hiding up in our attic to not let me see him bleed out.”

“God, Steve,” Bucky stared at him, his throat closing in. “You said he died of a heart disease.”

“Yeah, well, it was mostly a silver bullet next to his heart. Ma couldn’t do anything without doing an open surgery right then, and Dad wasn’t in his human form when they shot him.” Steve let out a huff of a breath that almost sounded like an empty chuckle. “He was stuck that way. So, the hospital was out.”

Bucky felt sick. He wanted to pull Steve into a hug when the boy was picking onto the thread of his jeans. “Where were you then?”

“At school. I didn’t know Dad was dead until Ma cleaned him up and the attic. When I got home, he was on their bed, curled up like he’s asleep.” Steve shook his head, and Bucky realised his eyes were glassy but no tears collected at the corners. “Worst day of my life. I think I had nightmares for the next few years.”

Bucky did what they always did whenever one of them was like this; he pitched forward and pulled Steve into his arms like he initially wanted, and Steve held onto him like a lifeline, his face buried into his shoulder while hands gripped tight onto his shirt.

Bucky rubbed a hand down the curve of his spine, allowing him this comfort. He leaned back and pulled Steve with him until his back hit the side of the Beetle, and they sat there, having this moment to themselves.

It was awful. Steve had been such a fiery little thing when Bucky first knew him; the fact what happened before that hadn’t made it take over Steve’s life just showed how strong he was trying to be for himself. It took huge amounts of energy and courage, especially for a kid — Bucky wished he would’ve helped him more.

Sighing softly through his nose, Bucky let his head drop against the car with a muted _thunk_. “I’m sorry I ignored you, Stevie. I think I just needed some space in thinking this through, even if my gut kept telling me to stop being a wuss and just talk to you.”

“S’okay, I understand,” Steve replied, voice muffled against his shoulder, before jokingly adding, “It’s not like my best friend giving me the cold shoulder hasn’t been one of the worst hours I’ve experienced throughout my life, but it’s okay.”

Steve let out a yelp and jerked away from him when Bucky pinched his side. “You’re making me feel bad, shut up.”

Steve’s face softened. “You don’t have to anymore.”

“Yeah, I know. But _you_ should,” Bucky let a grin stretch across his face from where he was till slumped against the car, enjoying the way confusion marred Steve’s face from under his lashes. “You ate all the banana bread your Ma gave to _me_.”

Steve laughed. “In my defense, I have no self impulse as a werewolf. Still working on that. And I ate _most_ of it, not all of it.”

“That’s a lame excuse, when I only had a slice.”

“There are more in this house, I _saw_ your Ma servin’ some on the table.”

“Yeah, but the bag was from your Ma to me _personally._ Specially loved and all. And you _ate_ them.”

“Fine,” Steve stood up and offered his hand. “I'll make you one now. A whole banana loaf of ‘em. Except this one is specially made from _me_ to you. _Personally_.”

The familiar determination was a thing to behold when Bucky was on the floor while the garage lights shone on top of Steve’s head; it glowed around him, like some entity who just floated from the heavens or something. And it was fucking glorious, s’what it was. Bucky would’ve gladly followed him to any corner of the world and make sure he stayed by him.

God, he was so far gone for this boy — there was nothing more than Bucky wanted than this, wanted him more than anything.

Bucky gave an exaggerated eye roll, taking the offered hand as Steve pulled him up and near that they ended up in each other’s space. Bucky, the short bastard he was, had to look up at Steve’s whole 6’2 while he stood pitifully at 5’7. “If you burn your house down, I’m gonna book it before the cops drop in.”

“Some friend you are,” Steve grinned warmly, and Bucky felt it to his toes.

* * *

“You transform every month?”

“Every full moon for three to four days,” Steve agreed. He was behind the counter, rearranging bowling shoes into their cubicles after a family finished their game. 

Bucky played with the pen in his hand. “Does it hurt?”

“Well, it kinda burns, if I’m honest, but sometimes it does get me wishing that it’d just end faster.” Steve smiled at Bucky’s twisted mouth. “It’s no big deal, really.”

“Your bones and muscles would be stretching into the werewolf,” Bucky deadpanned. “I can’t imagine how much it hurts, but I have a feeling it’s a shitton.”

They slammed their mouths shut when three girls from their school walked over while laughing whatever it was they were talking about. They greeted them both, maybe a little too friendly at Steve’s direction when they all leaned against the counter with flirtatious smiles on their faces as Steve, the gentleman he was, only responded with friendly replies and nods.

Bucky only watched from the sides; he was used to this when Steve decided to grow like a tree, pulling everyone’s attention a few years ago with his dashing blonde looks. Looking at him now, he was still kinda shy under everyone’s advances, being damn modest and avoided compliments that would be aimed at his way.

Steve even made the ugly striped shirt he was required to wear look _good_. Bucky told himself that wasn’t fair and he wasn’t jealous when one of them touched Steve’s arm after he passed them their shoes.

When they left, Steve faced his way and caught Bucky’s eyes, mouth opening to say something, before realising the expression on his face and shutting it closed, the beginnings of a smirk growing on his face. “Something wrong, Buck?”

Bucky blinked, blushing when he realised he was caught. “Nothing.”

“Uh-huh,” Steve slid nearer until he was right in front of him with the same look still intact, and god, what a punk.

Bucky let an eyebrow jump up. “Whatever, Stevie. Go back to your fanclub if you have to.”

“Aw, Buck, don’t be like that,” Steve cooed, and Bucky snorted. “Y’know I always have eyes for you.”

Bucky couldn’t hate him if he wanted to because Steve Rogers dug deep in his flesh and stayed cozy underneath his skin. And with how he was grinning wide at Bucky with his arms folded above the counter, biceps threatening to rip his shirt, had Bucky think that he was allowing this to happen; their banter was different this time. He _knew_ this, and it was going to get into his head when Steve fucking flirted with him.

Bucky reasoned that best friends flirted all the time, and it wasn’t as if this was the first time it happened. Sometimes he started it, and then he found out that would be the stupidest thing to ever do, because he was halfway to having heart palpitations when Steve only answered slyly back.

Bucky cleared his throat. “Hey, since werewolves exist, does that mean there are other supernatural creatures too?”

Steve blinked at the sudden change of subject. “I mean, sure. Wolves are not the only ones that exist.”

Bucky had his full attention on him now, elbows digging into the smooth surface when he subconsciously leaned forward. “So, there are like, demons, dragons, vampires?”

“Sure. And before we could go into the stereotypes of wolf versus vampire, they’re all bullshit. We’re not ‘mortal enemies’ like Hollywood likes to present us,” Steve scoffed. “Some of us are even dating each other. _And,_ for the record, we’re not _that_ slobbery.”

“You can date each other?”

“Inter species dating is not frowned upon. At least, not between monster and monster.”

Bucky straightened up a bit, something treacherous alight underneath his sternum. “What about monsters and humans?”

“It happens, but that usually leaves them heartbroken since monsters live longer than an average human do,” Steve explained, eyes refusing to look at him all of a sudden. “Some monsters can turn their human partner into one of ‘em once they’ve gotten permission, but the rest of us?” Steve looked up then, a half smile tugging on his lips. “We make do. Spend what time we have with each other.”

The last sentence felt a little too personal between them, but that wasn't what Steve wanted. And with everything he said, it was clearly impossible for them to get together, metaphorically of course, when Steve was going to live another few hundred years while Bucky would konk out at eighty, ninety if he was pushing it.

“Oh,” Bucky let out. A blanket of silence settled on their heads before he shook it off. “Are there any other monsters in our town?”

“For werewolves, it’s just me and Ma. Territorial things, y’know? But there are some shifters, maybe a few vampires, witches, and fae people. But I can’t say who, if it’s okay with you.”

“Safety reasons?”

“Gotta protect each other,” Steve looked apologetic about it, clashing with the need to tell Bucky everything. “If they knew you knew about me, they’d maybe get on my ass for it, say I was reckless or something. But, I trust you, so I’m not worried.”

“I hope you do,” Bucky said quietly. “Trust me, I mean. I wouldn’t do anything that would make you go into some trouble.”

“I know you do, Buck,” Steve grasped his wrist, giving it a squeeze of assurance. “It’s why we’re talking about this now, right?”

“Sure,” Bucky replied, letting his own hand pat on Steve’s before letting it stay there. “Your Ma knows that I know?”

“I told her. She was kinda mad at me for chasing you off,” Steve chuckled, not moving his hand away and instead letting his thumb rub against Bucky’s knuckles. “In my defense, I transformed a little earlier than I should that day. There’s no warning in these things. One day, I'm a loveable wolf who sheds yellow fur and suddenly I’m naked in the bushes.”

Bucky chuckled. “That happened before?”

“Believe me, I lost count,” Steve replied with a laugh. Then, it was as if a switch flipped his playful look into something timid when he looked at Bucky. “Y’know how Homecoming is in another week?”

“Yeah?”

“So,” Steve drawled out, tapping his fingers against Bucky’s hand, as if he was nervous. “Did you find anyone to go with yet?”

“I dunno,” Bucky admitted. “Maybe I’ll go with Nat. She’s usually the one who would end up dragging me in these things whenever I refuse to join all of you.”

Fingers stiffened above his. “Oh.”

Bucky tried not to let his brows furrow when Steve pulled back and busied himself with the creases on his shirt. “What’s wrong? Were you thinking of going with her?”

“No, no. I kinda thought she’ll be going with Sam, s’all.”

“After that breakdown he had because he didn’t know if he should ask Riley to go with him?” Bucky rolled his eyes. “Obviously, he should. Or the letters they wrote to each other would be just a waste of time because he was being stupid.”

Bucky would never thought he’d see someone in love as Sam Wilson did when he was sighing and twittering with hearts floating above his head, a handwritten letter clutched to his chest. Whenever Riley passed their lockers and saw Sam there, he’d give this softest smile and a wave before moving along. Sam was useless then. Bucky had to pull him off his locker before keeping his books inside.

Steve gave a distracted nod. “Sure, sure.” 

Bucky cocked his head to the side. “You’re asking Peggy, right?”

Not that it didn’t eat him up. Not that he was going to admit it when the sun was still shining down his head.

“I guess I am,” Steve gave him a quick smile, before a family of seven came cluttering near the counter. “I’m taking this. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Sure,” Bucky said, pushing himself off the counter. “You wanna come over to my house later and finish off our homework together?”

“Sure thing,” Steve replied, before welcoming the family with a smile. 

Bucky stood like that for a while, feet shuffling against the god awful carpet and how the mess of a design could’ve given anyone vertigo, _Wham!_ playing in the speakers above him. He watched Steve, how he took out the shoes and new packets of socks when a couple of the kids forgot to bring theirs. He was fluid in what he did, rattling off the shoe size again when one of them got the wrong one.

Bucky took one step forward before stopping himself, George Michael’s voice floating around his ears. He had no idea what he was doing. He shook his head and turned around, slipping past the family when they blocked the pathway and got out quietly.

* * *

Sam was telling them how he _finally_ had the guts in asking Riley to go to Homecoming with him. 

“I mean, the balloons and box of chocolates probably helped but the fact he chose _this_ hunk of a chocolate,” Sam gestured at himself with a swipe of his hand, a proud grin on his face.

“You can be so full of yourself when Riley’s concerned,” Bucky criticised, poking into his mac ‘n’ cheese dubiously. 

Sam snorted. “As if you didn’t have your moments, Narcissus. ‘Hey, Sam, I got a date, how’s my hair? Hey, Sam, how’s my shirt? Do I have ketchup stains on it? Does this look make my ass pop out?’”

“I’ve never said the least one.”

“You have,” Nat confirmed, and Sam let out a, “ _Hah._ ”

“What? I’ve _never_ said that. Steve,” Bucky elbowed him. “Back me up.”

Steve shrugged, opening his box of milk. “Nah, guys—“

“See?”

“—it’s more like ‘does this make my thighs look fuckable? Do I need more hair gel or should I just bathe in it?’”

Bucky gaped at him as both Sam and Nat snickered. “ _Steve,_ ” He wasn’t whining, absolutely not. “You’re supposed to back me up, not kick my balls when I’m down.”

Steve shrugged, but a smile tugged on his lips. “Sorry, sweetheart, but it’s the truth.”

And then, he looked up, face brightening with recognition. “Peggy’s here. I’m gonna ask her now before both of us get busy with stuff again.”

Steve slipped out of the bench and jogged across the dining hall towards her. Bucky only watched, still a little wide-eyed from Steve’s little endearment that he was left frozen in his seat. Steve stopped in front of Peggy, Sharon patting her cousin’s shoulder with a knowing smirk before she went ahead and found a seat for them both.

Peggy wore a small smile while Steve was probably stuttering through his words, hand grasping on his nape. She reached up and kissed his cheek, causing Steve to flare up pink in his ears and neck. Bucky forced himself to look away and stabbed into his mac ‘n’ cheese before shoveling it into his mouth.

When he looked up, Sam and Natasha were openly staring at him. Bucky chewed slowly, narrowed eyes flickering between them. “What?”

“Nothing,” Nat said when it clearly sounded like it wasn’t nothing. “Just wondering when you’re gonna pull your heads out of your asses.”

He stared dumbfoundedly at her. “Um, what?”

“Dude,” Sam shook his head. “ _Sweetheart?_ ”

“He’s messing with me, we like to mess with each other.” Bucky swallowed down his food with a little difficulty, reaching for his milk. “Why? You want him to call you ‘sweetheart’ too?”

“Uh, no. He only does that to you.”

Bucky laughed nervously, taking a gulp of his drink. It wasn’t even cold anymore. “No, he doesn’t. He does that to everyone.”

“James,” Natasha started. “We know.”

He started to sweat then. “Know what?”

She leaned back a bit, scrutinising him. “Do you want me to spell it out?”

“I still have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Okay!” Steve exclaimed beside him, making Bucky flinch in surprise when he practically materialised out of thin air. Steve sat back down in his seat. “I finally asked her. So now, I’m not the only one dateless.”

Natasha furrowed her brows in confusion. “I’m still dateless.”

Steve frowned back at her, fork suspended above his lasagna. “Bucky said he’s going with you?”

Bucky in question steadily avoided the stare she turned on him, picking apart his macaroni. “Really.” She deadpanned, causing him to bring his shoulders to his ears.

Bucky hunched down further when he felt Steve’s eyes on him before they focused back on her. “Yeah? Or— oh god,” Steve winced apologetically. “You haven’t asked her yet?”

“I mean,” Bucky began, shooting a bright smile at Natasha’s stoic look. “I _was_ going to ask you. I’m dateless too. So, Nat,” He fluttered his lashes at her. “Will you be my date for Homecoming?”

“Charmed,” she monotoned. “How come I don’t get balloons and chocolate?”

“I promise to get you some later.”

“Get it with me now,” she said as she stood up. Bucky blinked at her, and she jerked her head towards the area of the cafeteria. “Come on, I haven’t had my chocolate pudding.”

Bucky had a feeling this was an execution.

He followed her, glancing over his shoulder to see Steve’s concerned look and Sam’s exasperated one, both aimed at his way. Bucky dutifully followed her out of the dining hall and into the cafeteria, before he jumped at the sudden painful slap on his arm.

“Ow!” He rubbed the spot as she steered them away from the crowd and instead stood beside a pillar. “What the hell was that for?”

“For lying,” she replied, crossing her arms. “And for asking me to be your date when I wanted to ask someone else.”

“Oh,” He felt bad then. “Who did you wanna ask?”

“None of your business. But before I dump your ass, I need to know why you were using me as a way to avoid Steve. _Again_.”

“I wasn’t avoiding him again. He sat beside me. We talked. We talked shit to each other. We talked the whole avoiding thing out the other day, and now we’re okay.”

“Obviously not if you’re using me as a buffer for your repressed feelings.”

“Who said anything about being repressed?” He almost snapped out, because oh god he wasn’t that obvious, was he? He wasn’t actually broadcasting his love for Steve so openly that his friends knew? “I’m perfectly fine. You’re the one who’s hounding on me on these things.”

“Keep lying to yourself, James,” she sighed. “Sam and I know. Our eyes are completely fine that we’re not actually blind to how the both of you treat each other.”

He stared at her, heart thudding. “You’re insane.”

“Is that what you tell yourself in the mirror?”

He couldn’t help it; he snorted in disbelief. “You have no idea.”

He clamped his mouth shut, grimacing at her growing smile. _God fucking dammit, Barnes._

Bucky took a deep breath. “Look—“

“ _Why can’t you just admit it to yourself about this?_ ” She chastised gently in Russian. “ _You’re killing yourself, you both are._ ”

“ _It’s not like he feels the same way_ ,” he countered back, harshly shoving his hands into his jeans pockets to hide the way he clenched his fists. “ _He’s in love with the British girl wearing the red lipstick. Who wouldn’t? She’s one hell of a gal to be with.”_

“ _And you’re his beloved best friend,_ ” she said, and Jesus, what kind of wording was that, Nat. Bucky released a sharp breath through his nose and looked away. “ _I don’t know if you’re blind or just in plain denial, but the fact you’re refusing to see this just shows how you’re actually afraid of telling him. You shouldn’t. You know how we support you._ ”

“ _It’s not that,_ ” He shook his head. “ _It’s never that. I know you. But, him…”_

“ _You know him too._ ” She offered a small smile. “ _You know him more than any of us do. And trust me, James. Just tell him.”_

That was the thing. He wanted to, god, he wanted to tell Steve he was in love with him so badly. But, Bucky knew he was going to mess everything up if he did, and he couldn’t. He _couldn’t_.

He shook his head. “I can’t.”

“Can’t what?” Clint suddenly popped up, looping his arms around their shoulders and hanging onto them like a monkey. “Why are you two whispering at the corner in Russian? Are you exchanging secret codings the rest of us don’t know about?”

He yowled when Nat pinched his side and twisted the flesh there, jerking his arms back to himself. “ _Barton, you idiot._ ”

“I love you too,” he wheezed out, rubbing his side. Clint was part of the Russian Language private classes too, so clearly, he understood what she said. “So, what are you two doing here?”

“Definitely not saying anything. Definitely none of your business.” Bucky was already walking towards the stack of chocolate pudding. Might as well get one for himself.

“Aw, c’mon Bucky,” Clint groaned as they followed him. “I thought we were our own lil’ team of spies who tell each other everything.”

“Definitely _not_.”

* * *

Bucky stood in front of the toilet mirror, staring at his reflection.

He had another half an hour to pick up Natasha, and he was still undressed. At least, he showered, but the warm water did nothing to calm down his nerves as he thought about what was going to happen that night.

“I can do this,” he muttered, swiping some hair gel with his fingers. “It’s just for tonight. I’m fine. Everything will be fine.”

He was going to be sick.

The thought of Steve going mushy with Peggy made something bitter swirl behind his tongue, but Bucky swallowed it down forcefully. They were going to be dancing together, getting close and personal. They would probably kiss with the sweetest music blaring from the speakers, where they would be standing in a circle of students who would always squeal at the sight of them together, while Bucky stood at the sides and probably trying to not fucking cry his eyes out.

Bucky wasn’t going to be one of those guys who wouldn’t be there for his best friend. Steve deserved everything in the world, and if that meant Bucky wasn’t the one to give it to him, then that was going to be something he had to be okay about.

He looked down at his hand and then back at his reflection again. With his clean hand, he twisted the sink knob and washed the oil off under running water.

“Hey,” Becca impatiently knocked on the door. “Hurry up, I need to pee.”

“I’m still in here,” Bucky called back. “Do it in a bottle.”

She groaned loudly, thumping on the door again with her palm. “Come _on_.”

After wiping his hands, Bucky swung the door open. Becca quickly rushed in when he tried to get out. “Out, out, out—“

The door slammed on him. Shaking his head, he made his way towards his room.

Once he walked down the stairs in his pressed light grey suit, a bright flash of light immediately blinded him. Once he blinked away the blank spots, his Ma looked like she was about to burst with pride with how wide she smiled, George standing beside her with Becca’s camera in hand as he wore a similar expression on his face.

Bucky landed on the last flight of stairs, embarrassed. “I feel like I’m being judged.”

“Oh, c’mon, you look excellent,” Winnie told him, and George blinded him again with another flash of a photo. “My baby boy’s all grown up.”

Bucky heard Becca snicker upstairs and ignored her. Winnie pulled him into her arms and squeezed a laugh out of him at how tight she held him. It didn’t matter if he was taller than her for a while now too. “Ma,” he simply stated, rubbing her back. “You’re wrinkling my suit.”

“Sorry,” She pulled back and instead held his face between her hands, giving him a big kiss on the forehead that Bucky chuckled. “You look very nice. I bet everyone would be all over you once you get there.”

“Uh-huh. I don’t think Nat would appreciate me abandoning her after I was the one who asked her to be my date, considering the fact that she wanted to ask someone else first.”

“She could’ve just said no.”

Bucky paused, not wanting to tell her _why_ Natasha didn’t leave his ass by the curb. “She’s fine with it in the end.”

She hummed, smoothing out any creases on his shoulders. “If you’re sure.”

“As the sun in the sky.” He went to the kitchen to take out the corsage from the fridge when George asked, “Is Steve going with you?”

Bucky stilled in half-bend position, before he shook it off and closed the fridge door. “Nah, he has his own ride.”

“That motorcycle of his? His gal gonna be alright with all the wind messin’ up her hair and dress?”

Bucky forced a smile on his lips as he went back out. “I heard them talking about it the other day. She doesn’t mind with his bike, make it all ‘exciting’, she says.

“That’s too bad. Both of you and your dates could’ve been in the Beetle together,” George said. “Then, it’d be like a double date.”

Bucky tried not to grind his teeth together as he made his way to the garage. “Nah. It’ll be too tight at the back, anyway.”

Well, that wasn’t true. The girls would’ve fit just nice at the backseat while Steve would be at shotgun, but Bucky wasn’t going to voice that out.

Before he got inside the car, George stopped him. “Gotta get a picture with you and the Beetle too,” he explained, waving the camera in front of him. “Now pose. You’re gonna look back at this when you’re older and thank me for it.”

Bucky drove down Natasha’s road and stopped in front of her house, parking right in front of her car. He got out and walked up the driveway when the front door swung open, Alexei Shostakov filling up the doorway. 

His bushy brows stared down at Bucky when he greeted the older man with a grin, hand shot out for a handshake. “‘Evening, sir. I’m Nat’s date for prom tonight.”

“Barnes,” Alexei gruffed out in greeting, giving him once over. Then, he shook his hand and stood back, allowing Bucky to walk in. “ _Melina says Natalia is almost ready, so she will be done in a minute._ ” He gestured towards the living room, where Yelena was sprawled across one of the sofas with a magazine in hand. “ _You can wait there for now._ ”

“ _Thank you, sir_ ,” Bucky replied back in Russian, but then the sound of footsteps trailed towards them, making them both look up to see Natasha all dressed in a black number; the V shaped collar plunged down her chest, the dress flared out below her knees, her hair curled up behind her ears.

Bucky smiled. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” She replied with one of her own. She offered him her wrist when he showed her the corsage, letting him tie it on her. 

“Nice dress.” Yelena commented beside him. “I want to borrow it anytime later.”

Natasha scoffed. “No way.”

“Stand closer now, we want a picture,” Melina said, pulling out a camera. They did, giving her smiles that she took a couple of them. “Very good.”

“Now, Barnes,” Alexei began as he squared his shoulders, but Natasha groaned lowly. 

“Okay, let’s go.” She pushed Bucky out of the door while he craned back to give them a wave, calling out a, “We won’t be out late!”

When Bucky killed the car’s engine at the school car park, he didn’t let go of the wheel just yet as he watched kids walk into the gym in their best clothes. Some were going in alone, some held hands with their dates as they chittered between themselves, clearly excited for the evening.

He could feel Natasha’s eyes on him. “You okay?”

“As I’ll ever be,” he murmured, hands sliding down the curve of the wheel before they dropped on his lap. He sighed, glancing at the rearview mirror to check his hair. “C’mon, I bet they’re in there already.”

He let her slide a palm onto the side of his neck and planted a quick kiss of confidence on his temple, making him smile as they stepped out of the car.

It was as if the gym transformed from stinky teenager-feet smell to a whole new kingdom altogether. There were fairy lights hanging on the ceiling, the stage decorated with dark red curtains hung on the wall while a DJ sat at one corner. At the far side of the gym was a photo booth session for couples, equipped with props they could use if they felt like it.

His friends were standing at the opposite end by the wall, talking and laughing. When both he and Natasha were near enough, Sam waved them over. “Hey! You guys finally made it.”

“Miss me, Wilson?” Bucky grinned when Sam scoffed.

“Please. More like, Steve couldn’t shut up about you,” Sam snorted, and Bucky felt himself searching for him. “He’s by the punch getting a couple for himself and Peggy, who got pulled into dancing with Angie.”

“He couldn’t shut up about me, huh?” Bucky asked wryly.

“Nope.”

Bucky whirled to the side and almost choked on his breath when he saw Steve, who wore a deep emerald green suit that accented the breadth of his shoulders, his hair slicked back neat with hair gel that the bright blues of his eyes popped up even more. His smile was wide, and Bucky thought he was the most gorgeous motherfucker he had ever laid his eyes on.

“Bucky,” Steve greeted him warmly, holding onto two red cups of punch. Bucky swallowed when his eyes dragged down his figure. “You look great.”

“So do you,” Bucky coughed out, causing Steve to smile wider. “That’s some suit, pal. Where’d you even get that?”

“Oh, here and there,” Steve shrugged. Their friends pointedly talked with each other when Bucky glanced around, and he wanted to slug the smirk off Clint’s face when he wiggled his eyebrows at him. “I’m just renting it though, so I’d have to give back later.”

“Make use of it,” Bucky nodded towards the photo booth. “Ask Peggy to join you.”

Steve followed his gaze. “Oh, we had our turn. But not all of us as a group ‘cause we were waiting for you.”

Bucky wet his bottom lip. “Let’s go then.”

They posed for the cameras and made faces, hugging each other and laughing when all of them almost tilted to the side. When it was their turn, Steve wrapped an arm around his waist as easily as Bucky swung an arm across his shoulders, and Steve laughed when he had to bend slightly to accommodate the grip Bucky had on him, but he didn’t seem to mind. They both grinned wide for the camera, Bucky’s heart beating hard against his sternum from the warmth that muscled arm had on him.

They all danced, changed partners, and danced again. Everyone around them moved along. Bucky had fun, twirling Natasha around to the last beat of the song before dipping her down, her leg wrapped around his that some people let out wolf whistles from where they were close together.

“Woo,” she huffed out as he pulled her to a stand. “That was something, Barnes. But I need a drink. You want one?”

“Nope, I’m good.” He pushed his hair back, a little sweaty from all the work out. “You go on.”

“If you say so.” She puffed up her curls as she walked off, and Bucky was about to join their friends at the sidelines when someone stood in his way, making him skid to a stop.

“Care for a dance?” Steve asked, a twinkle in his eyes as he held out his hand.

Bucky blinked up at him, swallowing down any blush that wanted to pop on his cheeks. “Now?”

“Yeah, why not? Unless,” he trailed off, unsure now. “You don’t wanna?”

Oh, Bucky did. But with all the people around them, where there could be a high chance of how they would be watched and make whispers out of, he wasn’t so sure. Word travelled fast and he knew if he so much made a move at Steve, everyone was going to look at him as the current week’s gossip. The thirst for drama in this school —in this _town_ , really— was goddamn ridiculous.

When he let his eyes flicker around, they snagged on Sam, who was swaying with his hands on Riley’s shoulders as they stared so deeply into each other's eyes that Bucky felt like he was intruding on a private moment. When he looked back at Steve, his hand was already lowered, something akin to apologetic and disappointment settling in his gaze.

Bucky reached out for him, smiling wryly. “Sorry. C’mon.”

Steve’s eyes widened, before he replied back a pleased smile as they shuffled into position; Bucky mimicked Sam’s way while Steve let his hands rest on his waist, the soft music floating around them as other couples started to stream in.

Bucky felt like he stuffed fireworks in his ass as he stared at Steve’s tie, heart hammering in his throat when everything felt a little surreal even though they were so used to sprawling onto each other since they were kids. It was just like any other day, he tried to convince himself — where Bucky would use Steve’s ass as a pillow or he would fall face first into Bucky’s chest after a whole day of training. 

It was normal. They were being normal.

But Bucky still felt like he was going to jump out of his skin if they were going to stay quiet; it was beginning to feel semi-awkward. Bucky lifted his head with a train of words about to fall out of his mouth when he caught the soft look Steve aimed at him. It caught Bucky off guard, and he didn't know how to handle _this_ Steve because he didn’t think he’d seen it before. 

It was decidedly _not_ normal and Bucky didn’t know what to do.

Steve seemed to notice Bucky looking and opened his mouth to say something, but suddenly contorted his face as if something painful struck him. He ducked his head down, as if to hide it from Bucky when he was standing right in front of him. “Steve?” Bucky asked worriedly. “You okay?”

Steve grimaced, closing his eyes briefly before snapping them open again. “Oh, shit.”

“What happened?” Bucky slid his palms to his elbows to hold him steady when Steve’s forehead almost touched his shoulder. “Steve, what’s wrong?”

“I forgot today’s a full moon,” Steve pushed the words out tightly, hands tensed against his waist.

Bucky exhaled sharply at what that meant. “Oh, shit.”

Steve choked out a laugh, forehead fully pressed against him now, sweat collecting at his brow. “Yeah.”

“Alright, we have to get out of here,” Bucky searched around until he saw the entrance. He looked down at Steve. “Think you can walk out of here?”

“Have to now, don’t I?” Steve groaned lowly, and Bucky carefully rearranged themselves until he had Steve’s arm around his shoulders while Bucky held him by the waist. They walked off until they reached outside, and by then, Steve was already heaving out harsh breaths, his weight sagging against Bucky heavily.

“Alright, Stevie, we’re almost there,” Bucky assured him, opening the door to the passenger seat before gently putting him down. He turned Steve’s face towards him from where it was slumped on his chest. “Hey, doll,” he murmured, watching the way Steve blinked up at him feverishly. “Home or the forest?”

A shiver racked through Steve’s body, sweat dripping down his temple as if he just ran a marathon before he gasped out, “ _Home_.” 

“You got it.”

Bucky drove like the devil, thanking whatever deity up there for not giving him a ticket as he sped down the road. Steve was curled over the dashboard, breathing raggedly against his fist that Bucky kept glancing at him every second.

“We’re almost there, Stevie,” he crooned out, but he was on the verge of imploding from panic. He sucked in an air of relief when their familiar road came into view. 

He didn’t bother to park properly. Quickly getting out of the car, Bucky helped Steve walk into his house, clutching onto Bucky like a lifeline.

The door opened after he rang the bell, meeting Sarah’s confused look when she saw him at her doorstep. Then, her eyes flickered to her son, and she pressed her lips into a straight line. “Bring him in.”

They helped Steve to the living room, making him sit down on the sofa. He let out a snarl that sounded far too animalistic when the pain shot up his tailbone, making him arch against their grip that it took some strength to hold him still. Bucky swallowed. “Is it always this bad?”

“Yes,” Sarah sighed, loosening Steve’s tie. “He needs to get out of his clothes before he rips them. Bucky, can you get his shoes and pants?”

“Yeah, sure,” Bucky replied distractedly, mind hazy when Steve was growling at the change his body was going through and trying hard to fight it. Bucky pushed onto his hip to prevent him from moving, taking off Steve’s shoes and socks before pulling down on his pants.

Sarah dragged the folded quilt from the armrest and spread it over Steve before he got fully naked. They made him lie down, and Steve was still twisting and turning that it made Bucky feel something sharp to watch him in so much pain.

“What can I do?” He asked quietly.

“Let it happen,” Sarah stood up and went for the kitchen. “And comfort him. He usually gets hungry after shifting. I’m going to get him some food.”

Bucky kneeled on the floor by his head, running a hand over his drenched hair. Steve whimpered, pushing himself into his touch. “Hey, pal,” Bucky called out softly. “It’s going to be okay. You gotta let it happen or it’ll just hurt more.”

Steve gasped. Bucky had to scramble back when Steve suddenly rolled over and dropped to the ground on his hands and knees, the quilt still keeping him modest but rucked down to the middle of his back. 

Bucky reached for him, unable to breathe. “Steve?”

There was a sickening crack of a bone being snapped into a different place that Bucky flinched back. Steve stretched his neck forward and rolled his head, the small pop of bones clicking repeatedly had something vile spilled in Bucky's mouth but he was too enraptured to look away. Steve moaned painfully, the shape of his jaw shifting into something narrow, hair growing longer, fur sprouting more over his exposed shoulders.

Steve let out a yell that sounded more like a howl, his forehead almost touching the floor as he grew, and grew. It wasn’t long before a werewolf was in his place, panting under the quilt.

Steve shook his massive head, as if to get rid of the last of that uncomfortable experience before he blinked around. He seemed to recognise the house and stood up slowly.

Bucky could only watch from his place on the floor, trying to quiet down his screaming thoughts because _what the fuck._

This wasn’t a ‘it kinda burns’ situation. The moment Steve was able to talk in another three days, Bucky was going to beat his ass for lying to him. It looked and sounded fucking excruciating. 

Bright blue eyes land on him. Bucky sucked in his breath when Steve rolled out his tongue in excitement, bounding forward to give Bucky a big kiss by licking the side of his face, snapping him to the present instantly.

“Aw, gross, Steve,” Bucky complained, but he was relieved to see that Steve wasn’t suffering anymore. Big paws pushed Bucky down until his back was flat on the ground as Steve continued to lick his face. 

“Steve.”

His head snapped up at Sarah’s voice, scrambling off Bucky when he saw the plate piled with a couple of large raw slabs of steaks. Steve circled around her, bushy tail wagging excitedly in the air. Sarah eyed him in disapproval. “I told you to not go to that prom. It would’ve just been better if you stayed home. Now, look what you’ve made Bucky do.”

Steve seemed to realise the tone in her voice and sat in front of her, all the image of a scolded child —a scolded _werewolf_ , Bucky thought hysterically as he stood up— as Steve bowed his head. He let out a pitiful whimper.

“That’s what I thought,” Sarah stated frankly. “If you know Moonie’s coming sooner than I’d like, then stay at home when I tell you to.”

“Moonie?” Bucky inquired curiously.

“Just a term he came up with when he was younger,” Sarah explained, putting down the plate that Steve immediately jumped on it. She met Bucky’s eyes. “I’m sorry you had to witness that, and go through all the trouble to bring him home when you could’ve just had fun.”

Bucky shrugged, shoving his hands into his pants pockets. “I’d just be worried if I found out Steve wasn’t gonna be there. It wouldn’t have been much fun without him, anyway.”

“You took all the trouble to bring him home, Bucky.”

“And I don’t mind doin’ it again, Mrs. Rogers,” he told her, and some sort of revelation flared across his body, making him stand straighter when determination took over. “For as long as it takes.”

Sarah studied him quietly, the sound of Steve chomping on his food being the only thing between them. Then, she looked down at her son. “If that’s what you want.”

Bucky watched Steve too. “I don’t doubt it.”

* * *

Bucky had to regretfully leave the Rogers’ to go back to school. Steve gave him a whine just as Bucky went out of the door; he almost turned around and gave him a big hug if it wasn’t for the fact that Natasha would absolutely kill him if he abandoned her.

When he arrived at the gym, his friends were all watching him worriedly. He had to make up an excuse at how Steve was sick and had to bring him home. Bucky glanced at the worry on Peggy’s brows, biting the inner part of his bottom lip. “I’d take you home, if you’re okay with that.”

She looked surprised at his offer, and she wasn’t the only one when he felt the same way. But then, she gave him a smile and told him that he didn’t have to go through the trouble because she’d be fine once she’d ask Angie for a ride.

The next morning, Bucky and Sarah rode in his Beetle to pick up Steve’s bike, and he had a kick at riding it back to his house because the thing was purring beautifully like a brand new thing. Steve picked it up at the scrapyard and worked hard on it until it wasn’t a hazard to himself and the community, and from then, his status shot up the roof for being the most cool kid on the block. Bucky always made fun of him after that. 

It was a few days after the prom, and that evening, Bucky was strapping on his roller blades while Steve patiently waited beside him with his head on his paws. Looking around, the skating rink was thankfully empty that time, and Bucky hoped it stayed that way when he wanted this to be their space.

He looked down at the werewolf. “You ready?”

Steve let out a _boof_ before they stood to their feet. Bucky tugged on his crop top and made sure his high waisted leggings weren’t suctioned into the crack of his ass, and then he was rolling slowly across the clearing, the sun shining on both of them.

They had fun, and Bucky allowed Steve to chase after him as he zoomed through the cemented floor, jumping and following the curves of the rink. For the heck of it, Bucky had bought the largest harness and leash he could find at the pet store, buckled it on Steve, and the werewolf ran around while Bucky held on tight behind him, whooping loudly at the speed as it bit into his skin.

Until, it got a bit out of hand when Steve ran into the street, and Bucky had to hold onto the leash for his life as he tried yanking him to a stop.

“Steve!” Bucky shouted, but the werewolf ignored him, using his strength and speed to maneuver through roads as they passed down houses. Bucky _really_ hoped no one decided to look out of their window and see the Barnes kid being pulled by a werewolf. “Stop!”

Steve, of course, didn’t listen and instead passed through the railway station, down the tracks, before bringing them to the familiar long road with its old trees. Thankfully, they were at the side of the road, so there wasn’t a chance they were going to be hit by a truck or a buck.

Steve abruptly stopped at the spot they usually turn into the forest that Bucky collided into his back. He had a facefull of blonde fur that he spat out.

“Thanks for the warning,” he grumbled, straightening himself. “I can’t walk in there, I’m wearing rollerblades.”

Steve blinked at him, jerking his head at the direction of the forest before turning to the side, and Bucky realised what that meant. “You want me to ride on your back?”

Steve let out a bark of agreement. 

Bucky shook his head, rolling the leash in his hand. “The things you pull me into.”

Once he managed to climb on soft fur, Steve began trotting through the trees, clearly happy in getting his way. Bucky watched the way his fingers got buried in dense fur as he rubbed his neck, still not over how ridiculously soft it was, and Steve flicked an ear at him as acknowledgement.

Once they arrived at the clearing, Bucky slipped down from his back. He unbuckled the leash and harness, allowing Steve to shake his head before he prowled around the clearing, sniffing out for more squirrels probably. Bucky plopped himself on the ground and began taking off his rollerblades, leaving him in his socks as he stretched his legs in front of him.

“Hey,” he called out, and Steve whipped his head up. “C’mere.”

Steve did exactly that, snuffling behind Bucky’s ear that he laughed at the way it tickled, scratching Steve’s mane and letting his hand wander to his flank. 

Steve was like a very large, very alive stuffed toy and Bucky liked the way his arms couldn’t reach all the way to his back when he hugged him. Bucky rubbed his face against the side of his that Steve rumbled at him softly, folding his legs so that he sat beside Bucky, a warm and pleasant thing against his side.

“This is nice,” Bucky mumbled, patting him again. “You’re like a furnace.”

When he laid down, Steve followed him and let his head rest on his chest, watching Bucky through the snout of his nose. Bucky smiled at him. “You’re cuddly too.”

They stayed like that for a while, enjoying each other’s company. Bucky looked at the skies, saw how the trees made a canopy around them. 

That was until Steve began to fidget in his hold, making Bucky let him go when he scooted back and made some space between them, head bowed to the ground.

“Steve?” Bucky pushed himself to his elbows. “You okay?”

Steve let out a _yip!_ before it turned distinctly like moan. Mouth dropping, Bucky watched how his fur began to shorten, his body changing yet again in front of his eyes, but it wasn’t as horrifying as it was the other day. The transformation ran smoothly this time, and before he knew it, Steve was back in his human form, naked as he could be.

Gasping, Steve remained at his crouched position while Bucky scrambled to him, touching his ribs gently that made Steve turn his head to face him, blinking into focus.

“Bucky,” Steve rasped out, and Bucky brought his hand to his face. That seemed to do the trick though, because Steve swayed into his touch before he landed on Bucky’s chest again, their torsos pressed together from where they fell on the forest ground.

Bucky swallowed thickly, slowly running his fingers through his hair, and Steve rested his cheek near his collarbone. 

Then, he rolled his head up and his nose bumped into Bucky’s chin. Bucky could feel his warm breath near the corner of his mouth as he met those blue eyes; he was so sure Steve could feel the way his heart was beating erratically against his ribcage because they were so close, so very close they might as well melded themselves together.

Bucky licked his lips nervously that Steve watched the gesture with a flicker of his eyes. “I was worried about you.”

Steve snapped his gaze back at him, guilt dragging down his expression. “I’m sorry.”

“It was as if something inside you tried to rip you apart,” Bucky continued, remembering the sounds Steve made at his house. “I wished I could’ve done something to make it better.”

“It’s not your fault. You know that. It’s just something I have to go through every month,” Steve twisted his mouth to one side. “No big deal.”

“It _is_ a big deal,” Bucky growled, tightened his fingers around his hair that Steve blinked at him. “You were in so much pain, Steve. And I couldn’t do _anything_ while I just stood there when you went through it. It was _hell._ ”

“Bucky,” Steve said quietly. Oh, that wasn’t fair. Bucky smoothed his grip on his hair, tilting his face to the skies when he felt his throat closed up from bubbling emotions. “Hey, c’mon,” Steve dragged himself up until they were face to face, his arms caging Bucky in. “It wasn’t your fault. I’ve been through this for a long time now, and it may hurt a bit in the beginning, but I’ll be fine after that.”

Bucky shot him a glare. “A _bit?_ ”

Steve huffed out a laugh, the nerve of him. “Fine, it hurt _somewhat_ but I was able to handle it. I promise.”

“Somewhat,” Bucky scoffed, shaking his head. “If that was ‘somewhat’, I don’t wanna know how you’d be if you were in real pain.”

“Probably halfway out of my mind crazy, but y’know, that wouldn’t happen.”

“So sure of yourself, huh?”

“Well,” Steve shrugged, and the gesture made Bucky realise the position they were in. His face started to heat up at the fact he was the only clothed. “If you’re with me, then I wouldn’t worry so much. No one would hurt you when I’m here.”

Bucky arched his eyebrows. “Why? You’re gonna rip their throats out if they got near me?”

Steve sucked in a stuttering breath. “Yeah.”

Bucky stared at him. Steve looked ashamed at his admission and rolled off him, sitting by his hip. “Sometimes, I get,” He worked on his jaw. “Territorial. And while there are times I don’t like it, Ma said it’s just part of our nature. We can’t help thinking that some things are ours.”

Bucky swallowed dryly, not being able to believe the things that were being said then. “You think of me as yours?”

Steve flushed red from his chest to the tip of his ears, his fingers tangled together. “Yeah, I do. Only because we’ve known of each other for so long that having anyone else trying to get your attention got me kinda,” If possible, he blushed harder. “Crabby.”

Bucky gawked at him openly. Steve couldn’t handle all the attention he was getting and practically jumped to his feet, turning around to get his clothes at the normal hiding spot by the bushes. Unabashedly, Bucky looked at his ass.

That sounded almost like a confession. _Almost_ , but not quite right. Bucky wasn’t sure how to handle this as he pushed himself up into sitting with his legs crossed, turning away when Steve got dressed. But _was_ it really a confession, though? He didn’t know, but the fact Steve thought Bucky as _his_ did light something up in his gut. 

“So, uh,” Steve was already in his t-shirt and sweats, standing there awkwardly. “I kinda ruined Homecoming for you the other day, and I wanna make amends for that.”

Bucky squinted at him. “You didn’t ruin anything. I wanted to help.”

“Nope, no. If I listened to what Ma said, you wouldn’t have missed who was crowned Homecoming King and Queen.”

Bucky felt his eyebrows jump up. “You think I care ‘bout those things?”

“Point _is,_ ” Steve pressed on. “I’m gonna make a Homecoming event for you. So, come by where I work tomorrow night at eight, and wear your nice clothes.”

“Wha— Steve—“

“Buck, c’mon,” Steve walked over and sat down next to him, pleading with his eyes. “I feel bad about that and I wanna make it better.”

It wasn’t fair. It really wasn’t fair. Steve just said he couldn’t bear the thought of anyone getting cosy with Bucky, making him sound stupidly possessive that it had Bucky’s stomach doing somersaults. _His_ , he said. Like it was fucking normal to tell your best friend that you belonged to them only because they thought it so. 

And _now,_ Steve was giving him that puppy look Bucky would always see when he was in werewolf form, or even when he was human, in fact, quickly recounting the years when he wanted things to get his way. Steve knew the effect it had on Bucky, and he was abusing his power without any shame. 

Bucky sighed. “Alright.”

Steve lit up like the damn sun. “Great! Don’t be late.”

“I’m never late.”

“Oh, yeah? How about that time for practice?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “It was _once_.” Then, he grinned. “So, Moonie, huh?”

“Oh, God,” Steve groaned, but he was smiling as he hung his head. 

“Yeah.” Bucky ducked down and tried to meet his gaze, wanting to rub it in his face as much as possible after the stupidly mushy shit he said that made Bucky alight like a thousand stars. “I can imagine Lil’ Stevie counting the days til’ Moonie comes along so that he can chase his own tail.”

Steve shot him a look. “I do _not_ chase my own tail.”

“I beg to differ,” Bucky crowed. “I have evidence. Of _everything._ ”

Steve groaned again. “Oh no.”

“Chasing mice,” Bucky began, ticking off each finger as he went down the list. “You, halfway into chomping down on my banana bread. You, thinking your tail was attacking you—“

“ _Okay_ , I get it,” Steve smacked a large hand over his mouth, huffing out laughter. Bucky only gave him a smug look. “You’re well equipped. But, don’t show them to Ma.”

“Or what?” Bucky let out through muffled lips.

Steve leaned forward, his mouth stretched wide into a wicked smile when he let it hover above his knuckles, just a hand away from touching Bucky’s own mouth. “Or nothing. I just don’t wanna let her have copies of them.”

Bucky forced himself to look into his eyes rather than dropping his own lower down. It took immense effort and it was killing him. Instead, he bit into the meat of Steve’s palm that he jerked it back with a protest.

  
  


* * *

Bucky expected more people to be there.

But when he parked the Beetle in front of the building, the place was deserted except for Steve’s bike perched at the end of the clearing. 

Inside, the lights were on, and Steve said to just walk in despite the ‘Close’ sign being flipped on the transparent door. Bucky could see one of the empty bowling alleys from where he was still in the car.

That was odd, to say the least. But, Bucky trusted Steve, so he got out of the car and slammed the door closed, tugging the suit tighter around himself before he stepped inside.

The first thing he noticed was how Bruce Springsteen’s Dancing in the Dark owned the whole building. Then, Bucky turned around the corner before immediately halting to a stop, mouth falling open at how the space had changed into something that was similar to the gym.

He didn’t know where Steve got the fairy lights, but they were hanging above the counter that it resembled a curtain. Some of them were dangling at the far end of the wall, with several lava lamps perched on the benches, lighting up each bowling alley with its luminous blue and purple glow while the main lights were dimmed down a level or two. 

Bucky stepped in further, curious to see what else was there, when Steve popped up from the back with a box of popcorn in hand. He perked up when he saw Bucky. “You made it!”

“Stevie,” Bucky laughed out, stopping beside one of the shelves that held the bowling balls, which was decorated with more fairy lights. “You actually did all of this?”

Steve was wearing the same green suit from the other day, just as Bucky wore back his grey ones. He still looked as handsome as ever and that was making Bucky _feel_ things.

“Yeah,” Steve fidgeted with the popcorn, seemingly embarrassed at the praise. “The manager was totally cool with me having the place to myself. Said no one really comes here on the weekdays unless there was a party, so I thought, why not? S’why,” He let out a sweep of his hand around the space. “I did this.”

“It’s nice,” Bucky said, and Steve grinned at him. “So,” Bucky let his hand stray towards a bowling ball, letting it slide over the smooth surface. Then, he patted it noncommittally. “It’s just us.”

“If it’s okay with you,” Steve said. “I bought pizza. And made our own punch. But before we go into that,” He bowed halfway with the popcorn pressed to his front, a hand out to gesture to the alleys. “Care for an ass-kicking?”

Bucky laughed incredulously. “In our _suits?_ ”

“What, you wanna go nude?” Steve smirked, already choosing one bowling alley to set up their names.

Bucky scoffed loudly. “You wish.”

He hip-checked Steve away so that he could put down ‘Moonie’ and ‘Banana Bread’ before they started the game. Steve went first, choosing the right bowling ball before he walked up the lane.

The first round was a spare. Bucky got a strike. He raised his fists above his head, the sound of applause from the screen mixing with Steve’s own impressed ones, slowly clapping it all while he sat there with held back annoyance on his face. “Cheap luck.”

“Aw, Stevie, I can see you almost exploding there.” Bucky snickered, patting some white powder on his hands. “Think you can beat me?”

Something flashed in those eyes, and Steve pushed himself up when the pins were ready. “I’m so gonna kick your ass.”

“By all means, Moonie.”

They played through the game until Steve had to meet the pizza man at the door. Bucky felt his mouth water at the smell of two boxes of pizza filling up the whole place. He rolled his ball, saw the way it hit the last three pints, before bounding over to where Steve was setting the food and drinks up on the table.

Bucky ate while Steve went through his turn, popping open a can of Coke. They switched between themselves until the game finished, with Bucky winning the round with only a few points higher than Steve.

Steve grunted through a cheese stick. “It was the split. I coulda won if it wasn’t for the damn split.”

Bucky flopped down beside him, reaching for his Coke. “That’s losers talk.”

“Okay, Mr. I Just Won and I’m Rubbing It In Your Face.”

“You’re such a sore loser, Stevie.”

Bucky was stuffing a cheese stick into his mouth when Steve wiped his hands with a napkin and stood up, hand offered in front of him with a smile etched on his face. “Care to dance?”

Bucky stared at him, one side of his cheek jutted out from the cheese stick. He probably looked as charming as he felt. “What?”

“We didn’t really get to dance that night until I ruined everything,” Steve explained. “And the purpose of all of this is me trying to make it right. So, Bucky Barnes,” There was something softer in his tone then, something almost sweet. “Will you be my date tonight and have this dance with me?”

Right on time, Prince answered for Bucky as Purple Rain started playing from the speakers, allowing the room to dip into something more dreamier when all the fairy lights and lava lamps glowed even dewier around them. It stole the breath out of him, made Bucky think someone must have looked deep into his mind and plucked this dream out for him to experience in real life.

He swallowed down the last of his food, plucking his napkin from the table to wipe his mouth. “You sure know how to make a guy feel special.”

“One of my many traits.” The teasing subsided when Steve looked at him expectantly. “Will you have me?”

Bucky laughed breathlessly, slipping his hand into Steve’s. “How can I not?”

“Well,” Steve pulled him close until their chests bump into each other. “I can think of a few. Like how I scared the shit outta you when I accidentally shifted in front of you. Or how I don’t know whether you’d still even wanna be friends with me after I basically dumped a whole new different world on you.”

They swayed with the slow beat, Bucky letting his hands rest on his chest. “It was an accident, sure, but I like knowing that side of you. You’re freakin’ werewolf, a thing I knew as a fantasy until recently. ‘Sides, we tell each other about everything, and the fact you had to hide this from me kinda showed that maybe,” he licked his lips. “I did some things wrong somewhere.”

“No, Buck,” Steve quickly assured him, squeezing Bucky’s hips briefly. “I just wanted to protect you. This supernatural world ain’t always those romance books we’d see at the store. It’s kinda scary sometimes, and I don’t want you to get tangled in all of that.” He sighed softly. “But, you’re here now because of me, and I’m gonna make sure nothing bad happens to you.”

“What kind of scary things?”

“It’s all politics,” Steve shook his head, a wry smile forming. “Monster politics, basically. How we survive in the human world and all. It’s complicated and I hate it.”

“So big, powerful people bossing everyone around,” Bucky tilted his head to the side. “Something not new to me.”

“No, Buck, they’re,” Steve pursed his lips briefly. “Powerful. Very powerful. The community has the ability to make things like an accident, and if they see what they don’t like, they can take it away.”

“But, you said it yourself,” Bucky looked into those blue eyes, always so worried about him. “You’re here with me to make sure no one does.”

Steve steadily met his gaze. “I’m doing it as best as I can, but I’m just one werewolf.”

“Maybe,” Bucky agreed. Then, he smiled. “I promise not to make it difficult for you.”

“It’s not you I’m worried about. If I look away from you even for a minute, someone’s gonna sniff you out when I’m distracted and that,” Steve sucked in a sharp breath. “That scares me shitless, Buck, I’m gonna lie. The idea of losing you? If they knew how much you meant to me, they’re gonna use that advantage.”

Bucky lost his breath, their movements stilling. “Steve?” He asked quietly.

“I like you too much to lose you,” Steve admitted, and he didn’t look away, soldering on. “I promise I’ll make sure nothing will ever hurt you. They’ll have to go through me first.”

What happened next even surprised Bucky himself; he leaned up and pressed his mouth to Steve’s, kissing the surprised exhale right out of him. Steve responded to his kiss once he got over his initial surprise, feeling the soft and salty taste of his lips that Bucky curled his fingers around the lapels of his suit.

But then, he jerked back, gasping for breath even when they hadn’t anything else other than press their lips together. “Oh god,” Bucky muttered under his breath. “Oh god, I shouldn’t have done that. You don’t like me like that.”

Steve blinked slowly at him, looking slightly dazed. “What?”

“You don’t like me like that,” Bucky covered his face with a hand, wanting the floor to swallow him. “You like me as a best friend, not like,” he swallowed, squeezing his eyes together behind his palm. “Not like how I like you. This is a fucking disaster—“

Steve pulled down his hand and kissed him again, and Bucky couldn’t stop the soft moan when Steve licked into his mouth, letting Bucky part his lips to taste him some more.

They parted again with a sharp exhale, holding thight onto each other. Steve nipped his bottom lip. “I literally just confessed to you, kissed you back, and you say I don’t like you that way?”

Bucky cleared his throat. “ _Well—“_

Steve pressed another deep kiss on Bucky as he still held onto his wrist, his arm holding tight around his waist that Bucky felt his head spinning. “You’re so silly,” Steve told him against his mouth, smiling wide. “If you gotta really know, Bucky, I really, _really_ like you.”

“Yeah?” Bucky breathed out as he leaned back slightly, touching his cheek. 

“Too much, if I’m honest,” Steve nuzzled his temple. “You okay with me sticking around with you all the time?”

“As if we don’t do that already,” Bucky replied. Steve rested their foreheads together. “And I really, really like you too.”

Steve hummed. “Finally, don’t you think?” He rubbed up and down his back. “I think Nat and Sam are celebrating.”

Bucky laughed, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. “Pal, they keep hounding on me to tell you how I feel about you.”

“Me too! They think it was time I pull my head outta my ass and I gotta admit,” Steve planted a kiss at the corner of his mouth. “They’re right.”

“They’re gonna want us to treat ‘em some burgers. I just know it.”

“I can deal with that,” Steve said as they swayed again, another song now playing. “Now that you’re here with me.”

Bucky buried his face into his neck, face no doubt flaming, but the bursting happiness he felt in his chest was making him smile so widely, making it all worth it.

“I’m glad you’re here with me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Also, I’m still undecided, so tell me whether or not I should make a sequel!


End file.
